


Landslide - Band of Brothers

by wexhappyxfew



Category: Band of Brothers, Band of Brothers (TV 2001)
Genre: 101st airborne, 5 years in, Agent Fidel, Agent Legio, Agent Valhalla, Anger as a motivator, Angst with a Happy Ending, Band Of Brothers - Freeform, CAN and WILL drop kick bill guarnere, Churchill’s Secret Army, Cichociemni - Silent and Unseen, Daring, DeathHasAHeartToo, Depression, Destruction, Easy Company - Freeform, Emotionless, Found-Family bonding of groups, Gen, Grief, Mental Health Issues, NatiaNeedsAHug, Numbness, Paratroopers, Polish Home Army, Polish Paratroopers, Polish Resistance, Polish Underground, Risky, Ruthless, SOE, SOE Agent, Sadness, Screaming Eagles, September 1st 1939, Severe Depression, Special Operations Executive, Warsaw Uprising, an air of mystery, angst so far you almost can't see the happiness, but also where’s my radio signal?, but people like to think he is, chaos everywhere with my chaotic beans, chaotic - Freeform, cinnamon roll with knives, death is my best friend, emotion, enemies to best friends, feeling, george luz is not the intelligence officer, happiness? we don’t know her, heavy topics with heavy angst, if you want angst i can assure you that this HAS angst, if you’re expecting her sympathy it’s a little late for that, lewis nixon the mapkeeper, my favorite numb and exhausted lil chaotic bean, numbing of the mind, platonic best friends, poland - Freeform, radiomen best friends ie george luz will be THAT ray of sunshine, reckless, resistance groups, someone find this woman a piano, the wars been on for 5 years how much longer can it go?, wheres my happy ending?, who needs a babysitter....badly, wow my oc is chaotic, writer is currently crying over almost every chapter but i promise i'm okay.....maybe
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-01
Updated: 2021-03-05
Packaged: 2021-03-06 17:22:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 33
Words: 159,208
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26232634
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wexhappyxfew/pseuds/wexhappyxfew
Summary: Piano keys were her childhood, but the grasp of a pistol was her reality. Polish SOE Agent, Natia Filipska, has lurked among the rubble and the shadows of her occupied-Warsaw for years, ever since the war started and ripped her from the life that had guaranteed happiness and opportunity. The SOE took her in, as well as her two siblings, Klimeck and Ryzshard, arming them with a fighting spirit, and a chance at survival, at a life where they could avenge the ones that were taken. Being apart of the Cichociemni came next, Elite Polish Paratroopers, and it was their ticket home. Ever since her feet had then touched the ground, she had been fighting with her home and her people - the Polish Home Army. The Warsaw Uprising got her captured, and then being on the run nearly got her killed - her only ally was the pistol at her side. The Dutch Resistance of Eindhoven, Holland housed her, but it would never be her home.Upon liberation though, her path crossed with an Airborne Infantry - the 101st Airborne Division - the Screaming Eagles - American men. To ensure her safety back to Warsaw, Poland and her family, Easy Company and their men might be her only hope. But hope was lost long ago.
Relationships: Eventual Canon Character/OFC Character
Comments: 101
Kudos: 37





	1. prologue

_" And in the end, all i learned was how to be strong. Alone."_

_\- Unknown_

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_**September 15th, 1944 - Eindhoven, Holland** _

The fact she had managed to outrun Death was more of a surprise to herself than anything in this world. 

She had repeatedly told herself that she had to get away - from the men who had taken her from her home and had taken everything from her country. Because at the moment, running away, getting away, was the only thing she could've done. 

They had tied up her legs and wrists as if she were a chicken - she was no chicken. 

Chickens ran around as if they had no head upon their very shoulders. She had a head on her own. And she was pretty sure chickens didn't have formidable shoulders in the first place. 

Now, she sat on a rather comfortable ottoman, a blanket gently draped over her shoulders in a tender way, tucked into different deposits of her Resistance uniform, which no longer looked as if it were a Resistance uniform. 

The Nazis had stripped each bit of that identity from her body the minute they had lugged her into the truck, pulling away from Warsaw, her family, her friends. 

All of them. 

Left behind in the Uprising. 

Even though the mug of liquid was scolding hot, she couldn't feel it through the numbness in her finger tips and each time she took a tantalizing sip, she didn't feel the burning sensation of hot liquid on her parched throat. 

But was she even supposed to feel that? Her throat, parched as it was, was only ever parched when she were sick - not while she had been fighting for all these years. 

She had learned to control her breathing, the pace of breath in the intensity it came out, how to hold it without dying - all of that was needed. Because if the Germans heard you, you were dead. But now her throat lay parched.

It was because she had panicked, she had felt an odd sensation of worry and dread filling her just before she decided to burst out from where she had been thrown into. She remembered the other people in the back of the truck - she had panicked because she couldn't tell if they were dead or alive. 

They had been her people, citizens of the great nation of Poland, thrust into the back of the car, except they weren't alive like she had been. She figured that the Germans had been too stupid to even check her fully and had been simply excited that it was a female they had gotten a hold of. 

Little did they know a pistol had lied right in her wake, at her own disposal, the perfect opportunity for her to grab it and twist her body for a lucky shot or two to take them out. She was the only one that lived. 

And the only one that would live with the haunting memory. 

This memory was different from the others which she had experienced. 

It warped around her shallow, beating heart, sort of like a stab over and over again, a hasty realization of what she had done, what she had experienced. Possibly the first time she realized a death that had been at the fault of her own hands. Not just a death that she had done because she had to, a death where she looked back and wondered why did she have to do it. 

But it was because she had to save herself. 

Because if she didn't, she, herself, would've been dead as well. 

And if she were dead, she couldn't have been doing what she was doing at this moment and that was alerting anyone, her Allies, Poland's Allies and then hopefully the SOE about the Warsaw Uprising and the Soviets plan to overtake Poland as a whole - not just the Germans. 

That the Poles needed any help they could get. 

If she were dead, no would know - they'd think she'd have dropped off the face of this Earth without a trace. 

She wasn't like that. 

She had just narrowly made it out - a scapegoat. 

Now sitting here with a boiling hot mug of liquid, she wondered if one day, she'd sit in her home again, just like this, not having to think about whether she'd get to live or die within the next day. But it had been 5 years too long for that. 

The only thing she felt was the one or two beads of sweat trickling past her heavy brown eyes - even wrapped in a blanket of what she suspected was warmth. It was all she felt. She hadn't felt anything in a long time, only a numbness to the war, the reality of it all - everything. 

For starters, she had woken up here, in this little home, completely unaware of where she was - she must've passed out and they must've found her. 

Where was here? 

But she had stayed subdue as they actually showed hospitality towards her before disappearing. 

She cursed herself. 

She should've listened to Ryzshard. 

SHE SHOULD'VE. 

Ryzshard had told her she should've not gone out for a 0300 raid on a German camp - she should've been smarter. 

She could've been. 

She would've been. 

But she wasn't and now she sat in the basement with leaders of the suspected Dutch Resistance in the nearby room. 

Reason being because she heard them simply speaking that - Dutch. They were all talking, voices quiet, concise and clean and confident, evidently. 

She knew a confident voice from a cowards. 

Slowly glancing to her left, she noticed her weapon, her jacket, and the map that she had easily stripped from the Germans lying in her wake. 

The Dutch woman had told her to relax, calm down and drink the liquid, the tea, and that it would all be okay. But it was never okay. For 5 years nothing was okay, and that was something she had grown numb to. That nothing was ever okay and would ever be okay again. 

Placing the the hot mug to the side, she slipped the blanket from her shoulders and quiet as mouse, crept towards her weapon. 

She trusted no one. 

She was forced to trust no one and now it was like an addiction. Because then if you trusted no one, you didn't have to feel any emotions if you betrayed them or watched them die at the sight of your own eyes. 

She bent down to her knees and Blyskawica Submachine Gun - an improvised weapon of sorts by Dwad Pilecki's sheer tact in making sure it worked and who never went unnoticed in making sure she had one. Her jacket was covered in blood, dirt and other disconformities of the sort - she barely even flinched at the scent that rose from it. 

Slowly pulling the jacket on over her shoulders, she willed a glance back towards where the Dutch were, hidden by the cloths and sheets that protected a large map, from what she had seen each time one entered or left the premise. 

It was a very large map. 

She had sat on the ottoman, watching the cloth move each time a person moved in and out, in and out, in and out, each time the cloth opening for a peak of the map which lay inside. 

Slowly sliding her own tiny map into her jacket, she took haste in slowly lifting her weapon into her arms. It wasn't bulky, but it was made and messed with a bit to her perfect size. 

Just then she froze, hearing the voices from the clothed room get louder, closer - they were leaving the clothed room and coming her way. 

In an instant as the ruffled cloth moved, she was turned, her pistol aimed right at their faces, eyes maliciously cold and distant staring at them with an unearthed expression. 

There were 3 of them standing there, 2 women and a man, their hands held up, a broken tea glass on the floor, wide eyes staring down at her. 

The leader was evidently the women, who didn't show as much fear as the other two - she was also the oldest and had the wisest eyes - her hands also weren't shaking. 

The other woman by her side, must've been the youngest, with her rumpled clothes, hair styled in that of a young teen's, but her eyes were widest - she was the youngest. 

The male by the other side of the woman stood with steady hands, slightly shaking just a bit more than their leader's, and she noticed that he was staring directly at her, a hardened expression underlying his wide eyed facade.

" Are you feeling alright?" the woman who was the leader as her, bent over the ground, murderous glances leaving her brown eyes every second, pulse after pulse. 

" Where am I? How did you find me? What am I doing here?" she spit out quickly, back to the three who stared at the mangled Polish Resistance Fighter. She did not like waking up in an unknown area - pointing a weapon at her victim was her only defense.

" Eindhoven, we found you just outside of town, passed out in a bush - it's why you woke up here." the younger woman said with a slightly more hopeful smile. 

_What hope._

" Why did you take me?" she asked persistently again.

" If we hadn't take you in, you would've been dead, gone to the Germans by now." the man said and she narrowed her eyes.

" No." she said. The man raised a brow.

" To even get there in the first place, I shot 3 to escape my death - I could've handled myself." she said firmly, her gaze growing colder - she was growing more fed up. The 3 Dutch were silent watching the Polish Resistance Fighter fail to lower her weapon.

" We're Allies, right?" the young woman asked as the man shot her a look. 

" Quiet, Anouk." the man snapped and then the young woman, paled, looking down as the Polish Resistance Fighter watched her, with narrowed eyes.

" Why'd you tell her to be quiet?" she asked, looking towards the man with a passive-aggressive glance. 

" I-"

" We are Allies right?" the Polish woman said quietly. The man stared at her coldly. 

" Yes," he said.

" Then why'd you tell her to be quiet?" she asked him again. He stared.

" Well than whatever it is, it is for the same reason I still have this weapon pointed at your head." she explained to him, cutting off his bullshit explanation that would roll from his mouth, just like many of the others. It was tense in the room, too tense, but not for the Polish Resistance Fighter. Tension had been thicker in her waters. The 3 Dutch stared at her.

" We can trust each other, you know?" the woman who was the presumed leader proceeded to tell her. The Polish woman stared. You don't trust someone you just met. 

" I've never trusted anyone all my life." she answered back to the leader.

" Well don't you have parents, siblings, friends?" the young woman behind her asked. The Polish woman's eyes narrowed dangerously and it seemed to set back all the looks of the 3 Dutch citizens.

" The Nazis were the ones to take them from me." she spat as if it were acid in her mouth, a distasteful look in her eyes. The 3 were silent watching the Polish woman. She slowly stood to her feet, weapon aimed right at the 3 Dutch citizens, gaze unwavering, like a thick layer of immobile ice. 

" Show me your map." the Polish woman said, weapon aimed at the eyes of the lead female.

" No, you're hurt, you're delusional, we're not showing you the map." the man spat stepping forward. The butt of the pistol was almost immediately on his own eyes. He slowly stepped back hands up. The Polish woman's gaze slowly narrowed watching him. She was anything but hurt - and none of these 3 understood what true hurt was. 

" Have you ever broken ribs?" the Polish woman asked him. He stared at her.

" No."

" Didn't think so." she said and smoothly stepped past them, her weapon training on them as she moved towards the clothed room.

" I wouldn't-" the Polish woman ignored the young woman's pleas and pushed open the clothed over doors to reveal a few other males on the other side - more Dutch Resistance Leaders. All 5 sets of eyes that were inside, slowly turned to meet that of the Polish woman's. 

" What do you think you're doing?' one of the older ones said stepping forward.

" Show me the map," she said, pulling up her submachine gun, so both butts of weapons were on people in either room.

" Silly girl," the man closest to her scolded, " what would you want with a mere slip of paper?" It was as if he were mocking her. Her gaze narrowed coldly, even colder than before, like ice. 

" You three," she called out to the other room, refusing to move her gaze from the current 5 in the map room," walk directly into the room and if you even think about turning and running, I won't hesitate to shoot you." 

They might've been Allies, but she trusted no one in war - she never could anymore, even if they were Allies. 

It was dead silent, before hearing the scuffles of feet into the room, the 3 Dutch members shuffling over quickly behind that of the rest of the men, watching her with wide eyes. 

The Polish woman's pistol didn't leave them, as she slowly slipped her submachine weapon over her shoulder, her gaze unmatched.

" You," she said, her head turning to face the man who had called her a girl," over with the others."

" Excuse me? I am not going-" the Polish woman's pistol was on his eyes in minute, her finger hovering on the trigger.

" Go." she snapped, like lightning in a storm, " Right. Now." The man stared up at her from the butt of the weapon. And it only took a second for him to shuffle around her, hands up towards the other side, cowering right beside everyone else. 

The Polish woman had Nazis before at their feet in front of her, with weapons pointed at their own heads. 

People who were Allies were nothing in this moment. 

It felt everyone were enemies.

" The map, what is it of?" she asked, weapon on them still.

" Holland, the area around Eindhoven." one of the young males squeaked out. Her eyes were aflame. Her blood ran cold, her eyes narrowed, like a hawk eyeing it's next prey.

" You're still under Nazi control." the Polish woman confirmed, her voice firm. They all nodded in a sort of agreement together. The Polish woman slowly lowered her weapon and suddenly the rough tension that filled the room disappeared. 

" Who are you?" the young woman asked her. The Polish woman looked their way.

" And why would I tell you that?" she said.

" I thought we were Allies." the man who already had made her mouth taste as if it were poison. The Polish woman narrowed her eyes.

" You can trust no one in war," the Polish woman said, " we're merely all just humans fighting it." They stared at her. 

Maybe deep down, really deep down, into the darkened, cracked pits of her slow beating heart she wanted to tell them who she was, tell them everything, but she couldn't. 

Natai Filipska had long ago made that vow, and after too many near death experiences, she had told herself - never again. 

｡↷ ✧*̥₊˚‧☆ﾐ

_**thank you for reading!!** _

_**updates for 'landslide' begin on OCTOBER 2ND - as in that is respect to the final day of the Warsaw Uprising that the Polish Citizens and Soldiers of Poland valiantly fought in. <3** _


	2. Under the Eyes of the Enemy

" The longer you look into the eyes of your enemy, the stronger you become in defeating them." 

\- Inking Jabelph 

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I N T R O D U C T I O N + D I S C L A I M E R

hello! and may i *officially* welcome you to Landslide - Band of Brothers! i am beyond excited to finally share this story with you all that i have worked hard on crafting together and lacing together as if it were a shoelace. it is definitely one of the most historically based fanfics i've written for band of brothers, but i have never been happier to write this and create Natia's character as it is - i have loved developing her ever since i crafted this story and creating simply just her story as a polish resistance fighter in easy company!

now, i must say, the beginning of this story starts off heavily focused on natia's character, so very much like The Soldier of Stars, we do not meet the boys right away, because this is Natia's Story and the Polish Resistance deserves recognition in what they did in the war against the Nazis and in the Warsaw Uprising! i'm very excited to portray this, through the first little portion of this story for you all to read! 

if you ever have questions, concerns, anything truly, even just the tiniest question, feel free to message me on here, or on my tumblr @ wexhappyxfew!! i'm happy to answer anything, especially about this book and what it has taken to construct it or even if you need writing advice - i'm happy to help!

and a few disclaimers for this story - we deal with period typical nazism + talks of being a true german or an aryan, as well as misogyny in small proportions, heavy topics like death, war, destruction, etc, related in that realm, as well as cursing, but this goes for everything i write as it is true to the time period. we DO NOT LIKE nazis here, and i refuse to make nazi oc's, because i feel it is highly wrong - every nazi portrayed in this story is based off the real-life nazi who was alive during the time period - i refuse to make an oc for that. 

i truly hope you all enjoy the start of this story and natia as well - her character has been fascinating to write and even more exciting to explore as a member of the polish resistance, which i feel is highly underrated in the terms of world war 2. i can't thank you all enough for deciding to read and even clicking on this book, it makes my day!! 

thank you!! <3 

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Wals-Siezenheim, Austria - April 22nd, 1944

War and Death had long ago forged a pact together once the cycle of a war infiltrated them, spiraling it into complete and utter chaos and violence that spread across the world. 

War killed and Death took - two different ideas interconnected by their duties to uphold within war. 

Death would watch War from the corner, as he raced around, besieging his anger and his rage upon every innocent civilian that happened to wander in his path. War had no goal in mind, he was simply just there to ultimately kill in the end. 

Of course, Death would just do his job, he always did his job and it always turned out right in the end. He was hated just as much as the next, but so was War. War didn't accept that he was hated - no - he probably never would accept that factor in his life. 

Death had long ago accepted it when the first person had prayed for Death to bestow him and take him from the horrid land that was their world. Death remembered the pleading cries of help, the yearning touch that lingered for once just to simply be taken. 

And Death had taken - it was his duty, his command - and he did. 

By fulfilling his duty he was hated. 

But the second War instigated the chaos he promised, the rich man applauded him and drank to more wine as Death's job only increased more - more death, more demise, more grievance that the world would have to then shelter in their souls for the rest of their time. 

And Death watched his work go to waste in war - the bodies lying around the towns of the battlefield - because no one cared. A vast majority of the men wouldn't even be laid to rest at home. Death would see their bodies disappear and then Death would be hated upon. They never blamed War, even though he was the reason they were all dead. They blamed it upon Death, and Death bore it all. All the pain, suffering and absolutely vile words scorned at him. He bore it so they didn't have to. 

Natia Filipska had always understood Death's pain. 

Because no one thought that Death suffered, he would just take and take and take and that was it. But he felt it all, more than anyone - and it was what hurt the most, but Death never told a soul. He wouldn't dare - he was fine all alone. 

Death was quite a lonely thing.

Mother and Father would be proud, Natia Filipska proceeded to tell herself over and over with each confident step forward, over the mossy cobblestone path up towards the Schloss Klessheim. 

One of the most distinctive features Natia remembered from Antoni Chrusciel's conference was the Reichsadler, the Imperial Eagle, the symbol of the Nazi Regime that ruled Nazi Germany. A symbol that made Natia's blood boil like a frothing pit of soup. And those statues, she remembered were made of pure limestone, set up on the entrance portals that with each step, grew closer and closer. 

The word 'pure' made her rage filled. 

She was not a pure Aryan, none of her family or friends were. And those were pure limestone. Nazi limestone. She couldn't think too deep. She hated it. 

Each step that brought her closer, brought her closer to this Nazi party, this Nazi gathering and it made her angry. She knew she was the only one that could willingly go inside and obtain the information she needed, she knew she was and that they needed her, but whenever she went here, whenever she forced herself to take each step towards this place, her blood never failed to boil. 

But she couldn't help it - they had taken 5 years of her life, she'd be willing to take 5 minutes of their time and possibly even put an end to the war, piece by piece.

Make Mother and Father proud, Natia told herself again, as her jaw clenched. She could see the glinting symbol of the swastika on the two men who stood guard at the front gate, shiny on their hats, their arms, draped around their neck like a trophy. It made her sick to her stomach. 

The dress was too constricting - 5 years of even living off of moldy potatoes and it was still too tight. For once, she wished to be back in the bland uniform she wore with pride - to blend into the background finally and be nothing more than a fighter - not some person dressed up to impress the enemy. They didn't deserve to be impressed by anything. 

But Ryzshard was inside, with that stupid German uniform, his cocky grin spread upon his lips, his hair mused up a bit, his eyes twinkling. Natia could practically envision the way he stood inside, taking in each and every last drop of information he possibly could. 

She always knew he was like a sponge. 

But he had the slip of paper, with the location, date, time, and train number - and with that slip of paper, they'd save even more lives in the process. 

The Schloss Kleeheim was aglow with light and lanterns hand lit by the Jewish Servants who were treated like nothing more than dirt - it made Natia enraged. 

In 1943, Ryzshard had helped one escape, a young girl who had a life to live better than the one she were stuck in - Ryzshard had risked his life for it, but the young woman now fought with the Resistance, she was a fighter and now one of her sister's close friends. 

Kaja had always been a fighter though. 

Natia would never regret helping orchestrate a plan such as that. 

Natia could see one, hand-lighting the torches around the base of the mansion-like home, the striped clothing underneath that poked out towards their shoes, showing. 

Natia's eyes narrowed, hard and deep and cold, but she couldn't draw attention as she forced herself to soften up, to let her eyes remain gentle, lady-like, like she wasn't some girl drug around a war, risking her life every second for Poland. She couldn't show that side of her. 

Her heels were soft against the ground - sneaking around helped - and Klimeck could tinker with them to make it subtle and not an annoyance that stuck over and over in Natia's head - Klimeck was good with that sorta stuff. 

Natia confidently let her chin slowly rise a bit as she neared the men in Nazi uniforms and sent them an even more confident smile, which they automatically smiled at.

" Good evening, gentlemen." she said proudly, her German sounding better than it had this morning. 

That was the adrenaline speaking. Pure adrenaline. 

She had been thinking too much previously when she practiced with Felicjan a few days ago. Now, it was like riding a wave of confidence.

" Good evening to you too, Fraulein," the younger one answered, a goofy smile on his face as Natia felt her blood boil further.

" Papers?" the older one said, stepping forward to hold out his hand towards him. 

Natia, blood boiling, gently smirked and reached into the coat pocket, revealing the papers, before handing them over. The man looked down at the papers, moving through them as Natia stood confidently watching him, dissecting each and every bit of his demeanor. 

The way he stood, leaning more to his left than his right, away from her, uneasy, diswayed, slightly concerned even, not entirely interested in her, but still quite possibly put off - married also she figured. She saw the sparkling ring upon his finger - definitely married. His eyes darted around the paper, trying to find something to put her off, to get her out of here, but she knew he'd come up with nothing - they always came up with nothing. 

Her head slowly turned to look at the younger man who stood more inclined, leaning towards her with a rather inciting gaze. His eyes watched her intently, not seeming to care that a pistol laid locked and loaded right by her side, or that a knife lay in its sheath, by her knee, covered by the long dress that draped over her entire being.

" You truly are beautiful, Fraulein, like the flowers that grow high in the Alps above our great nation." the man said as the older man continued to search through her papers. 

Natia sent an icy gaze towards him. 

A compliment from the enemy. 

She felt nothing.

Leaving him without a word, Natia cast her gaze towards the older man again, ignoring the look the younger man gave her.

" Where is your husband?" the younger one asked stepping forward a bit. Natia slowly looked his way again, gaze disinterested, unfazed. 

" What husband?" Natia asked, gaze hardened, yet still neutral under fire.

" Why, a beautiful Fraulien like you must have one." he asked her and Natia forced herself not to lose her mind. She was supposed to take the compliment, she was supposed to act like this compliment would make her blush and feel more like a woman. If anything it was degrading to even be thought of as to be a woman, you needed a man at your side. 

Some people would just never learn to the adjust to modern times.

" I don't need a man on my arm to prove who I am. No woman does. No one does." The young man's eyes widened and he slowly stepped backwards a bit as Natia slowly brought her predator like gaze back towards the old man again. The older man slowly closed the booklet and handed back her papers to her before studying her. She stared just as hard back. 

" You're clear to go." he said stepping back and Natia let a chilled smile on her lips before nodding and slowly stepping inside. She tucked the papers safely into her side again and slowly let a neutral facade fall onto her lips. 

Get a drink, fake a laugh or two, find Ryzshard, escape out of the bathroom window, got it. 

Well not the bathroom window, but if things go south, Natia was willingly to jump right out the bathroom window to hop on Dwad's car and drive away. 

As Natia took the 2 rather large limestone steps up to the main entrance of the Schloss Klessheim, she couldn't help but notice the Nazi guards that stood in each little nook and cranny, their eyes focused on each and every person that walked in and out, listening on conversations, their eyes making a trail behind people they didn't quite like it seemed. 

Natia blended, walking rather confidently alone. 

Not too confidently - you'd be picked out easier than raw meat from cooked. But enough where her feet softly padded against the ground, and with each step forward her chin rose the slightest bit, making a slightly confident smirk approach her features, but one not too large - she couldn't draw anymore attention, anymore than the fact she was merely just a pretty face. She was supposed to be just a pretty face. 

Her pistol gently bumped against her thigh every so often, a stark reminder of what she was here to do - what she had all but volunteered for before the conference had even finished, ultimately finding out she was the only one that could do it really. 

Spotting the dimly lit bar by the corner of the ballroom, Natia made a move through the crowd towards it, light footed steps gently hitting the perfectly shined floor. 

Passing by the velvet clad, rug staircase, Natia took it upon herself to lead her own way into the bar. It was filled with men in Nazi uniforms, only a few holding onto a woman at the arm. 

Natia hoped to never become simply an object to a man, a toy on his arm, a pretty piece to show others, to pride himself over - that was not a relationship. Respecting one another and valuing the other for simply being human was much more of a relationship than anything else. 

Natia didn't move her head, but her eyes greedily moved over the scene of the bar - Ryzshard was not here. 

But she couldn't leave without a drink - she'd draw too much attention - she was already drawing too much attention as a woman without a man by her side. 

Natia slowly approached the bar and met the eyes of the German bartender behind the heavily oak-wooded half wall, covered in a thin layer of perspiration from drinks that moved over the service as well as other peoples' hands. 

Nazi hands. 

The word turned her stomach.

" Good evening, Fraulein," the bartender said, " Can I interest you in some of our specialties tonight?" Sucking in a breath, Natia let her up-to-par German take it's lead. 

" That's okay, I'll just take the Jägermeister." Her words were met with a strange glance.

" Such a strong drink for a young Fraulein like you," he said watching her steadily. Natia's gaze barely twitched.

" A strong drink for a strong young Fraulien is the words you're looking for," she said with a slight dip of her head. The bartender watched her, maybe slightly uneasy by her tone and the way she let the words slip rather confidently past her pink lips - but it didn't deter him from turning to take the cup and start pouring.

" Fill it up nice and high," she called, briefly turning to glance over her shoulder, mumbling briefly, " maybe I won't have to remember this night." 

Natia's eyes found a few of the Leutnants - some of the most prized and praised by the Führer himself, gathered around a table, toasting and laughing towards one another. She was disgusted - they didn't deserve to be praised or prized - she had seen before what they had done - they were worthy of nothing. Nothing but punishment.

" Your drink?" the bartender's voice said as Natia let her icy gaze met his.

" Thank you," she said, and then took a well-deserving sip, leaving the bartenders gaze with wide-open eyes.

" You sure are a drinker," he said nodding to her, gulping even the tiniest bit. 

" There's a war on, who wouldn't?" she said. The bartender chuckled at her statement and it took too much willpower for her to not jump over the bar and slap it right off his face to the floor. It was nothing worth laughing, even merely chuckling about. He thought of it in the celebratory manner - it was simply because it was the only thing to calm oneself down after the constant unsettling news of the true horror of what the Nazis were capable of.

" Thank you again," she said with a thoughtful nod.

" You be careful with that now," the bartender called as she walked away, " don't need you getting too drunk!"

" Men." she muttered to herself, before taking another hefty sip of the drink and finding a table, dimly lit near the back of the slowly-growing more packed bar. 

The dress was too stiff for her liking, so sitting comfortably was not the easiest option - but this seat gave her a view of the full house all packed in this fairly tiny space for such a large mansion. Her gaze shifted when she saw a man slowly slide into the chair in front of her, across from the table. 

Blonde hair, blue eyes - Aryan. 

True German.

" Good evening, Fraulien." he said with a nod, as Natia watched his eyes shift towards the drink in her hand. 

" Good evening," she said, taking another sip of her drink, eyes not moving from his own, gaze tense.

" May I ask why you are alone?" he asked her. Natia slowly placed her drink down again on the table, poking her tongue out to lick her lips briefly, before keeping her hands on the table - rested, open, showing no signs of tension - what was ordered of her when interacting with Nazis - as to not give a single thing away. 

" The pub has a much better atmosphere than out where it is hot and sticky amongst all the guests." she offered, " Being in a war for as long as I have, being amongst large gatherings does not making it all too comfortable." The German smiled with a nod.

" I can agree upon that - joined up in 1942." he said, taking a sip of his drink, " You?"

" 1939." she answered. His eyes grew wide. 

It was true - but the 1939 that the Poles had to deal with - not the victories and leaps for the wretched Nazis. And women amongst Germany could sign up for their own medical corp and other such things where a woman had capabilities - even their own network like the SOE.

" 5 years?" 

" Yes." she answered, her stomach turning sour at her next words, " If I were to fight for my country, I were to fight with some of the first." The man watched her.

" You seem brave." he said.

" Numb." she answered for him, " Bravery was lost too long ago - numb is a better word for it all." The man watched her, no words forming on his lips after that.

" Numb to it all," she said, " death does that." 

" Agreed," he answered, " I watched my friend die out there." Natia watched him - she had watched friends die too - she had been far too numb to even react.

" Me too," she answered," as apart of the Wehrmacht." Man, she hated that word, the poisonous taste upon her lips as she said it. 

" But I trained with the best, but even then death is inevitable for all." she said.

" In war, you mean." 

" In life." she answered back and Natia watched him, gaze unchanged.

" You don't believe in God do you." the man said and Natia felt a smirk tilt onto her face, slowly making the corners of her lips turn up.

" A long time ago I did, but the war's too far along for that." she answered, before slowly picking up her drink again, and raising it a bit in the air for the sense of a toast to it all, before drinking down every last drop of the drink. 

Slowly standing to her feet she stepped forward and placed a hand on his shoulder, and patted it.

" I wish you luck in the rest of this war." she said and then stepped away, leaving him in silence. He watched the empty glance swing in her hand, the dress following behind her. Natia slowly sauntered away a growing, icy smirk upon her lips. 

Luck - what a peculiar word. 

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H I S T O R I C A L N O T E S 

> The opening to this story begins at Wals-Siezenheim, Austria on April 22nd, 1944, at the Schloss Klessheim, which on that day in history, was the start of a two-day meeting between Hitler and Mussolini, where Mussolini presented a list of issues he had which currently attributed to the lack of cooperation with the German Authorities. By this point the German delegation no longer held respect for Mussolini who by now 'resembled a shadow of his former self'. 

Many gatherings and meetings were held in Schloss Klessheim, and I decided it was the perfect place to start the story. Natia and her fellow Resistance members have for years been 'under the eyes of the enemy', gathering information from a secret contact which you learn about more in the next chapter! 

> The Jägermeister which Natia orders at the bar with the bartender is actually as described and why the bartender had right to question it. It has 35% alcohol volume - any amount of alcohol with a high volume is a lot even for any human being - and even though it is not the highest, it should not be consumed straight, but in moderation. (Drink responsibly those of you who do.)

> There were women who worked amongst the Wehrmacht, about 500,000 of them, by the end of the war in various sectors, so Natia mentioning it, was believable enough for the German Soldier. 

E N D I N G A / N

\- hey! thanks for reading, as always. i already said it, but i appreciate it more than you can ever imagine, especially for a story such as this. it means the world!! :) 

\- updates, will hopefully be every friday starting after today. october 2nd was the update day because it signaled the end of the warsaw uprising and i felt i needed to commemorate that and the citizens and soldiers who fought

\- if i find time: i may occasionally update on tuesdays as well!! so be on the lookout on my message board or on my tumblr - info will always be up on those two sites!! <3


	3. A Reputation of Sorts

" It takes many good deeds to build a good reputation, and only one bad one to lose it."

_\- Benjamin Franklin_

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Maybe it was the way her eyes moved over each and every bit of living life form in the room, but she was sure the man behind the bar had taken quite a few steps back as to avoid another embarrassing altercation on his own account. 

Approaching the bar, Natia slid the empty glass cup across the surface towards the bartender, tossing a few coins of Reichmarks towards him in the process, before turning and moving out towards the crowded ballroom again. 

As Natia passed by the velvet cloth, clad staircase, her gate slowed and she cast a chilled glance up towards the length of the highrise. A man stood in the center, dressed in his SS uniform, gaze emotionless as it slowly looked down upon the guests. 

Nikolaus Barbie - Klaus if you will - on leave from Lyon, France where he worked with the Vichy Regime. The cutthroat and absolutely bloody red look in his eyes turned her stomach - Natia herself knew what he had done - to the Jewish, to the Poles, to anyone deemed different by the Nazis - and he was a cruel man. She knew that - many people did - but no one scared her anymore - not even the bloodless gaze that slowly met her own, stopped on the space below, picking her out from the crowd, picking out her deep brown eyes through it all. 

Natia watched his lip twitch up into what was deemed a smirk, and give a slow moving nod to her. Her gaze remained unchanged, cold, distant and emotionless. 

A flirty nod did nothing but add more icy layers to her heart. Natia let her gaze remain unbothered and slowly moved it from him before moving on; he was worth no time of her own. 

_Find Ryzshard._

That was the only other impending thought on her mind other than having a few drinks - to make it look less suspicious than it already was. 

Natia slowly stepped forward and willingly took a glance around, surveying the room in front of her trying to find her brother. 

Dark hair, signature smirk, that poignant look in his eyes which were exactly like Natia's, possibly a hair or two out of place - his youthful nature. And a Nazi uniform that he had threatened too many times to chuck out the window and drunkly dance on. It took every bit of will power for Natia to not agree - they needed it for their duty. 

Natia spotted Ryzshard right away - she knew her baby brother in practically any given scenario. She would just get a sense of him, an odd feeling that trickled into her system whenever one of her siblings were present. 

That had always happened ever since the incident. 

Natia slowly stepped forward, putting on a show of sliding past men and women in Nazi uniforms, or fancy ball gowns who gave Natia a look or two. But Natia just forced a blush on her cheeks, pardoning herself and batting her eyelids. She felt like vomiting, she hated having to act so innocent, she was purely anything but. 

As Natia slowly moved around the perimeter of the open dance floor, she spotted one of the Third Reich members lean over to Ryzshard and whisper in his ear. 

Kurt Gerstein. 

Gernstein worked for the Nazis, inside the Third Reich, as an SS officer and head of their sanitary services - the sanitary services for the dead. For years he had been working against the Nazis, to try and successfully perform some resistance for the gas chambers at the concentration camps - so far he was unsuccessful, but he was working everyday. Göran Von Otter had not been enough help for the case, nor had the Swedish diplomat. 

Natia had witnessed it plenty of times on her own account and it had been more than a mere annoyance on her part. You either can get the job done or not, and if you half-ass it, it's out of her mind in seconds. It was war.

A new supply of Zyklon B was in arrival and shipment in IG Farben in Frankfurt, Germany. Their goal was to stop it as it was also planned to transport slave laborers - Natia didn't want the train to ever reach its final destination again. 

So, Natia slowly picked up her gate, squeezing past a few more guests before slowly coming into view.

" Ingrid Fischer." Kurt said immediately recognizing her gaze as she mysteriously approached the two with a slow nod. 

_Put on a show._

Ingrid was putting on a show, her masked name to overshadow the features of a Polish spy.

" Your reputation proceeds you." Kurt said, as he softly kissed the back of her hand. Quite right - but they already knew each other. 

_Lie._

She had no reputation except for her recklessness that followed like a lost puppy. 

Natia briefly meeting Ryzshard's dark gaze. Something was wrong. The minute she stopped beside the two she met Kurt's eyes again. She didn't like the look he was giving her. Ryzshard stood beside her, jaw clenched, his eyes narrowed across the marble floor, hands shoved deep into his pockets. 

_Oh great._

" What's going on?" she whispered lowly in a rushed version of German, almost tripping over Polish in the process. Kurt cleared his throat. 

" Double the people on the cargo. I managed to find out how much Zyklon B there will be, but the number of people - completely doubled. You'll have to alert your Resistance members that you need more space. Without it you can't successfully help them all escape under the cover of night." Kurt explained and Natia had to bite back her lip from cursing.

" And now, we have to let You-Know-Who know that her plan will not exactly be working." Ryzshard muttered, " She'll blow her top and you know it." Natia rolled her eyes as she glanced at Ryzshard. 

Klimeck would lose her shit. She had planned long and hard for this next form of resistance - hearing it was now possibly screwed over wasn't helping. Of course, looking at it, it wasn't - they could save many more lives, so many more from the onslaught of the Germans, but they couldn't do it successfully if they were not prepared. 

Except if you're Ryzshard. He wings everything and manages to keep all his fingers and toes intact.

" We'll need a bigger base to bring them to," Natia said, " we already have multiple areas maxed out, we'll have to find-"

" Good evening," a voice said and the trio looked up to see a man standing there in front of them a drink in his hand, a small smile on his face as he looked at them.

" Fraulein," the man said nodding to Natia and she nodded back. 

Hans Vogel. She immediately recognized him by the way he had spoken. Years of siding under their gazes, it was easy to pick a coward's voice from a confident. Vogel was hanging on the edge of desperation - as a politician, he seemed to carry that in his back pocket quite a lot.

" Gentlemen." he said and both Ryzshard and Kurt nodded. But Ryzshard, smirked and raised his glass, a hand stuck in his pocket, his eyes aglow with a childish light. 

" Shall I propose a toast?" Ryzshard said and Natia had to force herself to swallow the grin, the laugh, the absolute sarcastic tone that laced his voice as he said so. Ryzshard probably didn't even know 'shall' was a word until about a year ago.

" Why of course, Scholz." Hans said. Henri Scholz was the name Ryzshard had proceeded to beg to let himself be called in this position. Klimeck had given into her brother's pleading, a thing any normal younger sibling would plead of their older ones. Henri Scholz it was. He also thought it was ' _cool_ ' that Scholz meant medieval mayor. He, himself, thought that made him medieval. He wasn't but a boy could dream. 

" The year is 1944, we're winning, high and low," Ryzshard said raising his glass, " may we pray for our lives, our souls, and the Gods above for us." Natia snuck a glance towards Ryzshard, who looked like he was in fact biting back the smirk on his face at the phrase.

" May we be guided and guarded by God, Himself, and hopefully we'll be lead in the right direction for this war." Ryzshard said and the group toasted to that. Natia slowly glanced to her left and noticed a man, leaned up on the nearby wall watching the group. 

Shit.

Natia slowly bit back her lip and cast a soft smile up at Hans. Her blood boiled at the pitiful look that spread across her face. She was not deserving of such pity.

" Gerstein if you don't mind coming with me, The Führer would like to speak with you, he has been in discussion with Keitel for quite some time and we've heard you have fascinating new numbers to share with us." Hans explained watching Kurt closely. Ever the politician, watching for Kurt's every blatant move it seemed. 

_Scum_.

" Of course," Kurt answered, but the dark look in his eye that only grew when he followed Hans away was a stark reminder of too many things that encompassed the war. 

Natia let her gaze follow after Kurt as they moved through the group towards where The Führer would usually stay away from the crowded party guests of families and couples of high ranking - Natia believed it was always a wonder Ryzshard were here and so trusted by the Third Reich. 

Natia took a glance back over her shoulder towards the man who had been watching the group so intently - he was now occupied by another man, but he was rigid and tense - something was off. Natia's hand instinctively went to the pistol at her side.

" Hey," Ryzshard's voice suddenly said. Ryzshard. Ryzshard's voice. Natia looked up, her hand dropping form where the pistol was lying in wake underneath.

" I know you probably wanna blow this place up," Ryzshard said, with a smirk, " but it would be nice if the both of us got out of here with Kurt first with the information we needed, so I have a reason for dragging my ass here in the first place." Natia felt a smirk crawl on her features and nodded. 

" So? Do you have the information?" she asked him, " The faster I get it, the faster I get out of here and out of this stupid dress."

" Agreed, the faster I can jump out of this stupid uniform." Ryzshard whispered with a bit of a snippy tone - he hated the uniform, " The pockets are shit to, I mean, they call this comfortable." Natia snickered, before meeting his gaze again, expectantly. 

" So?"

" Dresden." Ryzshard said and Natia raised a brow." Dresden?" she said," But last week-"

" Was Zwickau, yeah, yeah I know, but you know these guys, they switch an order every single fucking day." Ryzshard said with a sigh, as Natia suppressed a chuckle of a sort.

" Cargo?" Natia asked as Ryzshard's eyes met hers.

" Please dear God tell me you were at least listening to Kurt, it's the whole reason the location is now Dresden and not Zwickau." Ryzshard said.

" You just like saying Zwickau."

" Maybe."

" Shut up."

" No." Natia glared at him and Ryzshard just chuckled.

" Paper?" she said, standing a step closer to Ryzshard, as he slowly pushed the paper into her hands and she squeezed it tight, before slowly pretending to scratch her back, but instead slid it into the dress seam which was sewed on by Klimeck for occasions as such. 

Doing this for 5 years made it easier and easier each time Natia herself had to dress up for one of the bullshit occasions. And usually it ended with The Führer breaking off ties with Allies of his own - how typical. The paper was safely secured in the seam of the dress and Natia slowly let out a sigh as the lights seemed to be brighter than she remembered them being.

" They still believing you?" Natia asked looking up towards Ryzshard who stood with a smirk broadening on his face, those few strands of hair in his eyes.

" Oh, precisely." Ryzshard said, a glint donning his brown eyes, " Apparently, I'm one of the richest guys in Germany and I own about 50 goats, but hey, I'm here for it."

" You barely own any money." Natia said.

" Exactly." Ryzshard said and Natia just smirked and shook her head.

" Apparently I'm just convincing." Ryzshard said.

" Oh we know," Natia said, " if I ever have to hear about you convincing me to lie behind Mother and Father's back so that you could go with your friends to the park again, I will kick you where the sun doesn't shine with a smile on my face."

" Hey, it was fun."

" You went to smoke a pack or two on a school night," Natia said and Ryzshard scoffed.

" Excuse me for being a human being," Ryzshard pouted out as Natia snickered and shook her head. 

Ryzshard, being the annoying younger brother he was, never failed to get his way - being probably the most convincing, most charming sibling out of the three, it served him well in aiding against the Third Reich in it's defeat. No wonder he had such rank held in the midst of them.

" 3 o'clock." muttered Ryzshard and her eyes darted right watching the man who had been leaned up against the wall slowly approaching. 

" Holy shit." she muttered, snatching Ryzshard's drink from his hands and sucking down a large gulp of it, leaving Ryzshard staring, too ungodly pissed off. They'd done this stunt too many times, she was gonna need to inhale more than half a drink.

" Good evening, Fräulein." Ok enough with the Fraulein bullshit. Natia let a neutral expression fall over her exhausted eyes and looked up.

" Good evening, sir." she said and then daintily sipped her drink, which Ryzshard inwardly scoffed at. 

Who was this person and where was Natia Filipska? 

Boy could she put on an act.

" Would you care for a walk around the palace gardens? I've seen you here with Scholz and Gerstein and you are just as pretty as the night sky." he said and Natia let out something which was more of grimace at the numbness in her heart. 

The night sky they say? 

Too many dark memories consumed the night sky for Natia to even remember it as beautiful. 

Compliments no longer found their way to her gated heart - instead they decided to hang down near her nerves in her fingertips and make them go numb instead from the inability to escape again.

" My acquaintance is actually not feeling too well, drank too much," Ryzshard said, putting a rather protective arm around the shoulder of his older sister and giving it the 'we're leaving' squeeze and a smirk, " _oopsie_." Natia internally groaned. 

" I'm sorry to hear, you are such a beautiful young woman." the man said and Natia barely made eye contact with him. 

" See, so drunk she can't even answer," Ryzshard said shrugging, " we'll be going now." 

" What is your name?" the man said stopping Ryzshard by shoving a greedy, cold finger into his collarbone. Ryzshard kept his grip firm on Natia as he gritted his teeth.

" You know who I am." Ryzshard said.

" But, ahh, no I don't you see, I am new here, you would've known." the man answered back.

" You would know who I am then if you are new here, my names been everywhere." Ryzshard argued back and unchanged gaze upon his features as Natia snuck a glance towards the man. He should give up while he's ahead. The man suddenly paled.

" Henri Scholz." he said as if he were hoarse in the throat. Ryzshard's gaze turned icy - and for a moment he looked like Klimeck when her gaze did the same.

" You-you...um...you-"

" Yes." Ryzshard said his voice a bitter chill down the spine. 

The yes was in response to the fact Ryzshard has actually silenced Reinhard Heydrich at one point, the man responsible for too many deaths in this war already. By silencing him, Ryzshard had gone on to delay the deaths of 200,000 people in the camps and then ended up saving all of those lives as well - even in the Third Reich hadn't caught onto that yet. 

Everyone knew of Henri Scholz who was actually Ryzshard Filipski and what he'd done. 

It scared people now. 

And Heydrich liked the way Ryzshard thought and kept him on his board. 

And with each moment now that the Zyklon B rushed in, they were too unsuspecting to notice Ryzshard feeding Natia information as if it were candy. And Natia handed it over as if it were prize money she won.

" We're going now," Ryzshard said his voice firm and by that point he was leading Natia away through the crowd. 

" Nice acting," she muttered and Ryzshard grumbled, shoving her shoulder as they moved towards fresh air, where Natia had previously entered. The two wouldn't get out that easily, Natia had merely just entered and now she were leaving again.

" Dwad's parked with the others, black, a dash of paint, white paint, on the wheel of the left back tire, we'll see it," she said quickly and quietly to Ryzshard and Ryzshard twitched his lip to let her know he had heard her as two Nazi soldiers approached the two. Drunk facade activated. 

" My, my Fräulein haven't you just arrived?" the one asked.

" She's drunk already," Ryzshard said, " there's some strong stuff in there." The two guards chuckled and Natia threatened herself not to loose her entire mind on these two.

Typical. 

So ungodly typical for them to laugh, to think of a woman so low. It made her sick to her stomach, highly sick to her stomach.

" Better get her home," the one said with a chuckle.

" Better make sure she rests well too," the other said and Natia just about lost it, eyes snapping up to theirs, hand on her pistol. 

" Clearly not drunk enough because I hope you know I understand each and every vile world dripping from your mouths." she spat. 

They both froze. 

And suddenly she froze and then Ryzshard froze. 

They all froze. 

And even guests passing by froze. 

They were all frozen. 

A woman speaking up to a man, in uniform, her eyes staring daggers into is.

" Angry drunk," the one mumbled stepping to the side to let her pass.

" Very," the other mumbled shuffling out of the way to let the two pass. 

Natia angrily took each fleeting step forward as Ryzshard tripped and stumbled following behind her, glancing back briefly towards the two men who mumbled between each other curiously, shaking their heads.

" David!" Natia called as they neared the car, as she kicked off her heels and pulled them into her hands as Ryzshard sighed to himself. 

David as in Dwad - it would be stupid to call out his real and extremely Polish sounding name. Dwad Pilecki had to be the most humble person, with his slightly curled dark brown hair upon his head, the gentle look in his eyes, the care he took in assessing the groups fine weaponry and also being one of the most intelligent members of the group, who, you know, actually used his brain.

" Already kicking off the shoes?" Dwad asked as Natia neared, a smirk riding his lips, as he leaned up against the vehicle. 

" Yes." she grumbled, slipping past him towards the back seat.

" With a Nazi in tow I see." Dwad said with a chuckle behind his lips, waiting to escape. Oh for the love of sarcasm. 

" How witty." she mumbled.

" Oh no, it's just Henri." Dwad said, before clearing his voice and calling out, " Won't the Führer be expecting you?"

" Shut up," muttered Ryzshard before turning his gaze on Natia, " we almost lost our necks in there, Ingrid." Natia slowly settled herself into the seat and then looked up at him.

" You escaped with your jugular, you're fine. And plus they know you for being a young one and that you don't stay out late, get your ass in the car." Natia said before leaning back with a sigh, eyes averted forward again. 

" Oh I'll get my ass in the car." muttered Ryzshard, moving around the car. Dwad let out a low whistle and moved towards the front drivers seat, opening up the door to settle inside, as Ryzshard whipped open the car door from beside Natia.

" Okay, you better get me out of here before I go in guns ablazing." Ryzshard said leaning forward towards Dwad. 

" I can do that once you get your seatbelt on, buddy." Dwad said and Natia chuckled. Ryzshard mumbled under his breath, leaning back and pulling the seat belt on with a grimace.

" Cool your jets when we pass on out of here, they weren't exactly the most pleasant upon entry." Dwad said, slowly moving out of his parked spot. The gravel of the street below them crunched on the sodden tires as it slowly moved down the long stretch of where multiple other vehicles of the Third Reich lay stationed in the mansion's wake. 

Natia could see Ryzshard's fingers tapping on the pant leg of his uniform anxiously, his nervous twitch ever since he was a child, now coming out at the worst possible moment. It was as if Nazis smelled fear. Ryzshard was in fact a grown man, but he was merely 19, with the rest of his childhood ripped from his grasp - it was no surprise he still got anxious in certain moments of time.

" Hey," Natia said and Ryzshard's dark brown eyes met her own. And for a moment something struck her emotionless heart that seemed to feel nothing but ice anymore. Watching her little brother's eyes remain fearful still, brought back an odd sense of nostalgia. Like after Ryzshard would come home after being in a fight at school, cuts along his youthful face, his knuckles slightly bruised. He was still a child - even in this midst of all this war - they all were. 

" Where are you going?" the Nazi outside the window asked Dwad.

" Salzburg." Dwad answer. It was always Salzburg when exiting this place, but they never drove to Salzburg - Natia had never even directly been in Salzburg. 

" At this time of night?" the other Nazi asked.

" Why yes of course! We make for Berlin in the morning - Henri won't be to pleased to know you are keeping us. We wake early tomorrow." Dwad said firmly to the two men.

" Scholz?" the first Nazi asked.

" Why of course!" Dwad said as if he were shocked - it was merely his 'I'm aggravated, can we please get a move on' facade. 

" Oh Henri!" the one called as he looked through the window to see Henri in the back. Ryzshard smirked raising his hand as if waving.

" Hello good frriend!" Ryzshard called, and Natia had to bit back the laugh that willed itself an escape. He looked like a dork. 

" Ah! It's Henri, it's Henri, all right on your way, we are sorry to keep you, sir!" the second Nazi said.

" Thank you, I'll rest easy." Ryzshard called, as Dwad nodded with a pissed off smile, taking a right onto the nearby road and slowly driving away. 

" Damn can I pull off an act." Ryzshard said. Natia slowly glanced towards him as the car bumped along.

" I'll give you credit, Ry, you got us out of there pretty quick." Natia agreed and Ryzshard chuckled.

" And you call me annoying." Ryzshard said, patting her shoulder.

" She's not the only one," Dwad muttered from the drivers seat. Natia chuckled shaking her head. 

Glancing out the window, the night sky lay covered in stars, twinkling down, unchanged by war. Natia let out a shaky breath as she finally let herself relax and let the tension release from her body. It was okay, everything would be okay. 

The plans sat right in the back of her dress, in the closed seem of the cloth. 

With the power to save many more lives. 

Because any number of lives saved was better than those lives being lost to another rich man's war. 

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H I S T O R I C A L N O T E S

> Nikolaus "Klaus" Barbie was a real Nazi who was actually apart of the Vichy Regime, working in Lyon, France for a portion of the war. He was an SS and Gestapo member during the general Nazi era. His nickname was the "Butcher of Lyon" for what he did to prisoners of the Gestapo. 

In this segment of the story, he was not at the meeting on April 22nd, 1944, but I made him in attendance, as you will see why in the far away future. 

> Kurt Gerstein was a real German SS officer and the head of technical disinfection services of the Institute for Hygiene of the Waffen-SS. But during a portion of the war, he began witnessing the mass murders in the Belzec and Treblinka Nazi extermination camps. This caused him to start attempting to spread news to the Allies about the Holocaust, such as spreading information to Swedish Diplomat - Göran von Otter (who I mentioned above) as well as Swiss diplomats, members of the Roman Catholic Church and to the Dutch government-in-exile, but it was alleged that this information never reached the ears of those in the higher-ups of many of the Allies. 

In this portion of the story, I thought it would be unique to sort of show the connection Gernstein has with Natia and with Ryzshard and the majority of the Polish Resistance. In real life, there was no eminent connection between them, but I wanted to play around with that here and decided to try it out. ( He worked with functions of Zyklon B, but this will be explained further later on. ) You'll learn more about their connection in the upcoming few chapters, but if you know Natia, then you know she might not be fully trusting of Gernstein in _anything_. 

> Zyklon B was mass produced at IG Farben, the head of where the factory was in Frankfurt, Germany and were sent out by train to various parts of Germany and into occupied countries. This is an important factor in the terms of Landslide's story and Natia's story with the Polish Resistance. 

> Hans Vogel was a German politician, as I previously stated, and also a chairman of the Social Democratic Party of Germany (SPD) along with Arthur Crispien and Otto Wels from 1931 to 1933. After the NSDAP came to power in 1933, he became one of the leaders of the social democratic exile organization, Sopade.

Although he does not play a major part in this portion of the story, or at all entirely - it is used for how Natia views politicians, and people with power over the people who actually fight the war. She's called it the 'rich man's war' plenty of times and this is repeated by her continuously throughout - by showing Vogel, though not actually present at this meeting in real life, as a man of power, truly shows that Natia doesn't even like people who abuse their power. 

> What the Polish Resistance is planning is the acts of sabotage against the Nazis that they performed throughout a majority of the war - the Polish Resistance was deemed the most successful and organized resistance under a Nazi-occupied country - railroad sabotage was just one of the many ways they tried to get back at the Nazis for what happened to their country.

This is what the first little portion of the story is focusing on, because this deserves to be portrayed rightfully for the planning to simply interrupt the Nazis in anyway. 

A / N

hey!! thanks for reading friends!! i personally love this chapter because we are truly starting to really dig up WHY natia was even here in the first place, CONNECTIONS through alleged spies and people working both sides, as well as NEW CHARACTERS and the plan of where they may heading now and WHAT they're planning on doing. definitely a lot to unpack in this chapter, that will all unfold in these next few chapters - especially these next few, they're some of my favorites!! <3

**_\- thank you for reading! <3_ **


	4. The Only Exception

" Oblivion is the rule and fame the exception, of humanity."

_\- Antonie Rivarol_

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**_Prague, Protectorate of Bohemia and Moravia_ **

**_German-Occupied_ **

**_0300, April 23rd, 1944_ **

The location of current members of the Polish Resistance was virtually unknown to outsiders - it wouldn't be a place for rebels then if it was nationally known. 

It's why it was, you know, _secret_. 

Ever since the current team of Resistance Fighters that Klimeck had brought under her wing had started working together, they had spread out different meeting locations through various posts in Europe - Poland, Austria, Germany, Belgium, France, Italy, Switzerland, even in Spain, Czechoslovakia, and Greece. Prague, the capital and largest city of the German-occupied Protectorate of Bohemia and Moravia was their upcoming location - and Natia remembered the features of the encampment in Prague essentially down to each and every last detail. 

Located against the Vltava River, near the Manesuv Most, a bridge that connected the two sides of Prague, lay a secret bunker in waiting. But getting there was almost always tricky work. 

Dwad usually had to park the car along a side street, throw a bit of dirt upon it - _of course Cezar Iskra, car-lover extraordinaire, would throw a fit and complain_ \- and then they would hurry along the streets, Ryzshard as a decoy. 

If you walked with a Nazi - you were safe. 

Natia hated to even believe that she were safe with someone of the enemy, but they had been sliding under the noses of Nazis for years - she had to use a Nazi uniform to get her to safety. 

Natia gently glanced up towards the rearview mirror and saw her eyes - the brown, the plain brown that differed from that of the piercing blue of the Aryan race and of many Polish women. For a moment, Natia wished she had blue eyes, anything but the brown that was unlike her siblings and her parents who had green and blue eyes in their own ways. 

Natia watched Dwad's eyes flick up into the rear view, as Ryzshard dozed off a bit against the cool window to the outside world.

" You okay, Nat?" he asked her and Natia softly sighed to herself, reverting her gaze to then the outside world.

" Fine." she answered back. 

Dwad Pilecki had known the Filipski's since they were all merely babies - or in Ryzshard's terms, he's the grandpa of the group with too many wooden nickels in his pocket. Both went in the same favor. Dwad had been only a young boy in the Great War before Poland was its own independent state, but some of the stories he told usually about what war felt like at the time were truly horrifying for a boy of such an age. It was why Dwad was the go-to guy to talk about anything with. He had advice for ages, and he always seemed to know what to say someone who had a problem - it's probably why Angelika was the perfect match as a scouting partner in crime - she was the complete opposite in many aspects, and it was a nice balance. 

Dwad had just always been there. Natia sucked in a breath.

" You know I hate doing that. All of that, I hate that place." she told Dwad, her eyes unwavering from their gaze on the cold life that passed by in the outside world at nearly 3 in the morning. She could tell that Dwad kept glancing back at her - she knew the general majority of people she came in contact with were worried for her. She looked like death on two feet half the time so it wouldn't be much of a surprise especially in her case, but after a while it did get quite annoying. Natia was perfectly capable of handling herself.

" Hopefully this is the last one of those for a long time then," Dwad told her, " if the coordinates line up, we can leave tomorrow, deliver the message and get this done and over with and return back to business as usual." 

Natia watched the window - she wished it were that easy.

" I had the pleasure of getting a flirty look from Barbie, my stomach might've twisted into a sour knot at the mere look." she grumbled, her eyes narrowed in a heated concentration with the window.

" Oh?" Dwad said - she couldn't tell if it was sarcastic or merely him implying that she should go on. She shouldn't have even brought it up in the first place. Natia put a hand to her forehead and squeezed her eyes shut in annoyance.

" Sorry, I, uh....can we just not talk about it anymore....sorry." Natia silently cursed herself at the simple sentence.

" You sure you're okay?" Dwad asked her and Natia sucked in a shaky breath and nodded. She was fine.

" Yeah, I'm fine." she said, " Just wish that maybe I had gotten more hours of sleep." She ended it with a chuckle - maybe it would settle Dwad for the time being. 

Saying she was fine was the only way to get people off her back - and even though she hated it more than anything, she couldn't find the words anymore to explain the raging tiger of emotions caged in her icy heart. But that tiger was trapped with no way to be set free, and it sucked more than anything. 

Words were not Natia's friend - they were at some point, but sometimes friends shift. Words drifted and now all she did was act. 

Natia softly leaned back against the chair and stared blankly up at the ceiling of the vehicle. 

Her heart was numb.

She felt nothing. 

But she never did. 

Arriving at about 3 in the morning in the town of Prague, the silent streets, were well silent, on such a spring evening, lights waving gently in the wind, a slight gust of a breeze, and the vast majority of the Sudetenland seemed untouched. 

But Natia knew deep down the horrors Prague had tasted consistently throughout the war - bombings daily from the Germans, killings, just about each and every singular thing the Poles had gone through. It made her stomach twist sour again and a warping uneasy feeling settle into her bones as Dwad slowly pulled onto the usual back street, which lay in almost complete and total darkness. The engine slowly shut off as it pulled up behind another lone car in the darkness. 

Dwad slowly turned the keys in the vehicle, as the engine softly hissed off and the trio was left in complete and utter silence.

" Who's leaving first?" Dwad asked quietly - that was the system. One of them leaves first, then the other will follow, before Dwad takes care of dirtying the car up. It's just how it was - how it always had been. 

" On me." Natia said, placing her hand upon the door handle and softly pushing it open. Natia shifted her legs around to the outside and then slowly stood to her feet, making it look as if she were fussing with the dress. In reality she was checking to feel that the plans were still in her back slip of the dress. 

A rustle. 

They were still there. 

Smoothing out the dress with her hands, the first thought that came to Natia's head was how fast she could rip this thing off and move into her comfortably suited uniform that her and Zofia had sewed up together. 

The duo were some of the smallest in stature and size of the Resistance groups - but they were both equally as fired up as light bulbs. 

Natia's head gently gazed down the dimmed, cobblestone street, watching for signs of human life. 

0%.

" Clear." she mumbled out. It flew through Dwad's cracked open window - he always left it cracked. She heard the doors of the vehicle slowly push open from opposing sides, not even turning around but simply sensing what the other two were doing. 

Dwad's presence was at her side almost immediately, and by the clicking of Ryzshard's shoes, it was an easy signal to let her know he had fitted that stupid Nazi cover upon his head. A slight chill of cool wind rain along the alley way, like children chasing a ball, making Natia's head slowly turn to follow its path. She heard Dwad begin to make work of throwing dirt all around the wheels of the car, and up along the sides. Then he patted the vehicle softly - he was done.

" Let's move," Dwad mumbled quietly, his voice reaching her ears and causing her to turn her gaze towards the end of the road again. 

End of the road, make a right, move down the street towards the bridge, diverge to the left slightly, move down - then it's there - with a faded _Keep Out_ sign in poor German across the front. A decoy for anyone really - thank you Angelika - it worked every time. 

The trio moved almost in a scattered line down the shadowed alley way. The two men in front of her, Natia behind. She never walked in front - not in this town. Nazis ran amuck practically everywhere and if you weren't careful, they'd pick you out easily for too many reasons. She stayed behind now, always. 

Natia refrained from letting her head move around to watch the nooks and crannies of the alley - that sent the notion that you were panicked, that you were quite frantic, and that you had no idea what you were doing. 

Confidence was key in every situation she was in, and at least the confidence overpowered the realness in this case. 

After 5 years of living this war, confidence was easy to bring in to oneself and to pour out again. 

The trio approached the end of the alley, and before giving a slight glance towards the left, they all turned right, staying quiet as they moved down the side of the street, a slight slope indicating the approaching Vltava River. The bridge and the tiny lanterns that flicked around the bridge were the only thinking glowing in the deadly silent city - Nazis were on the bridge standing guard, she knew that much.

" Fischer, keep up." 

Right. 

They were still going by those stupid names, it made her stomach sour - again. 

Natia's pace increased as they verged to the left a slight bit, hitting the cobblestone path that moved into some of the older, bombed out homes of the sector - where the poor had been, before they had been moved out. Her blood boiled slightly at the thought, but anything nowadays made her blood maliciously do so. 

Then they came upon the slightly yellowed, faded out, _Keep Out_ sign. Ryzshard was the one to approach the door and gently do the signaled hand-knock on the door.

_Knock. Knock Knock Knock. Knockity Knock Kno-_

" Where the absolute hell have you 3 been?!" the voice snapped, whipping open before Ryzshard could even finish his knocking. 

The three of them stood there, all quiet. Ryzshard's hand was still raised up as if he were knocking on the door, Dwad stood with rather wide eyes and Natia's gaze remained cold - only when she entered the post would her facade change, she was still outside.

" Doing the fucking duty," Ryzshard said, with a slight snicker and shrug of his shoulders. Natia rolled her eyes. Angelika Nowak stood on the opposing side, eyes narrowed.

" Shut your mouth, Filipski." she grumbled and then focused on the other two, " Klimeck's losing her mind in here, I was about to start up the motorcycle itself and run for the plans."

" Did she mention it was a 4 hour drive from Austria or did it happen to not run through her brain?" Dwad said with a snide grin stepping past her, the warmth and light encasing his entire being once he did so. 

" No." Angelika grumbled, crossing her arms as Ryzshard stepped inside, removing his cap.

" Hey, who's cooking! Smells like shit!" Ryzshard called as he stepped forward into the main quarters, doing everything in his power to rip off the Nazi uniform in the process, disappearing through the cloth curtain that hung separating entry from living. They'd always done that. 

Natia slowly stepped inside as Angelika came around and softly let the door close before it could let out possibly anymore light. The second Natia heard the click of the door locking and the wood of the door shifting in place, she could drop the neutral expression that played on her lips. Angelika came around and softly watched her.

" You got them?" she asked as Natia smirked proudly.

" Right where they were planned to be," Natia said and Angelika grinned.

" Tell me, did you get the chance to sass a Nazi or two? That's living the dream." she said and Natia smirked proudly, even wider.

" Of course, I wouldn't pass up the opportunity willingly." Natia said and Angelika chuckled. 

The two women pushed forward through the clothed door and almost immediately a blast of warmth hit them. It looked the same as it always did, the post by the river. Natia tended to relate each post according to its geographical location. There was the post by the mountain, the post by the house, the post by the field, the post by the fence - you get the point. 

This was the post by the river. 

Natia's gaze took her to Klimeck who was bent over a map with Kaja beside her, the two talking quietly between each other, pointing to various locations on the map, deep concentration set upon both their highly concentrated facades. Natia cleared her throat and the room almost instantly went quiet. 

Klimeck looked up and immediately saw her younger sister there in the signature deep red dress, with the sewn in pocket in the lip.

" Nat!" Klimeck called, " Thank God, thought you three would never show." Natia smiled slightly and stepped forward.

" Yeah, well Ry and I had to perform quite the act to get out," she said, and Klimeck looked up from the map with a smirk.

" Involving quite the show of downing my drink thank you very much!" Ryzshard called from behind the curtain he was currently ripping the Nazi uniform off of, behind. 

" Underage!" Klimeck shouted back.

" Oh shut up!" Ryzshard yelled back as Kaja let out an angelic laugh - the most innocent of the group in general. 

" Kaja's been tracking coordinates all day, we've been hoping the calculations have been right the entire time as well." Klimeck explained with a nod.

" Dresden." Natia said and Klimeck dipped her head with a nod, glancing at Kaja who slowly worked on a few quick calculations. 

Kaja was an intelligent young woman - and her quiet personality, brought along a patience that just about no one else had. Being under the Nazis, they had thought they had silenced her, quiet as she was, she was anything but silenced by the enemy. 

Kaja wrote a few things down before looking at the map.

" Yep," Kaja said with a nod, " coordinates match up." Natia let out a sigh and glanced towards the majority of where the others stood. 

" He can still be trusted." Natia said quietly, her voice light on the tongue, her eyes flitting towards Klimeck and Kaja's own. Natia bit back her lip, thoughts racing in her mind.

" Who?" Cezar asked, his voice ringing loud past many of their ears as he came from the kitchen, a slightly rattled and broken teacup in his grasp as his gaze flitted along the eyes of the others. 

The boy who never knew when to shut his mouth - annoying as he could be, he was an asset to the team. They thought that loosing his parents one one of the first days of the Warsaw Ghetto creation had been the cause.

" Gernstein." Natia said standing and crossing her arms, " 3 years and we can still obtain reliable information from him. Find it rather interesting?" Klimeck gave Natia look, raising a brow.

" Quite." Klimeck proposed back as Natia slowly put a hand to her chin, scrunching her brows up, deep in thought.

" You're just looking too deep into it, Nat - the guy's giving us info like it's going out of style." Cezar said, as he took a grateful sip of tea from beside Dwad, who stood himself, rolling his eyes, arms crossed, leaned against a stark, wooden post. 

" We remember that last time we didn't look deep enough into a certain situation, right?" Natia said stepping forward, her gaze preying on Cezar's. 

Cezar's own gaze hardened and he swallowed thickly; suddenly the tea wasn't as delectable as it had been quite some time ago. 

Each member of the current group in the basement was virtually aware of the event - the certain situation - that Natia happened to be talking about.

" What events, exactly?" Kaja asked quietly - right. Kaja had arrived just after the events which had taken one of the best leaders, virtually each member had loved. 

" June 30th, 1943..." Klimeck started, looking knowingly at Kaja, " General Stefan Rowecki was arrested by the Gestapo." Her gaze became filled with anger as the general direction of the room became focused on Klimeck. Klimeck set down her notes and then stood walking forward into the center of the room.

" We couldn't stop it, we were certain we could, but there weren't enough forces to save him - it's the last time we decided to trust someone not able to provide certification of loyalty to the Polish Home Army - Gernstein remains the only exception." Klimeck provided, with a slow nod.

" We should've looked harder," Klimeck said shaking her head, " I mean how we would have known." Natia was quiet - a normal stance she took when any of the other members started on a talking point in front of the group.

" He can still be trusted..." Natia said again, eyes narrowed again, testing the waters, " I say we set out a mission." Klimeck met her eye in almost an instance. Natia stood against the table, gaze uncertain for once.

" Natia-"

" He's a German still, who says we aren't walking right into a trap. He's tried for years to diverge Zyklon B from the camps, but for his case, it has only gotten more people killed. He seems to me nothing more than a coward." Natia stated, her tone cold, eyes unreadable for most. Klimeck licked her lips watching Natia become so enraged, so heartless.

" It's been 3 years that we've worked with him, just like you said, Nat, I mean, we've trusted him this long," Klimeck tried to say, countering Natia's outburst. 

" You can trust someone for all your life and they could kill you in the end." Natia countered, her gaze hard, an anxious tension dwindling over the room.

" If no one wants to take the mission I will," Natia said, " but I don't trust him as far as I could throw him."

" You don't trust anyone." complained Cezar and Natia's blazing eyes were nearly already set upon his own.

" There's a war on, you can't trust a soul." Natia countered to him, " You expect me to what, trust a Nazi, who is killing OUR people. Our families, our children, our schoolteachers? Just because they're working with us, you expect me to just trust someone like that?" It was silent again, even Cezar had snapped his mouth shut. 

" Can someone please get this stupid piece of paper from my dress?" she mumbled, annoyed now at herself entirely, her gaze remaining chilled, lips curling, arms crossed - standoffish - she wanted nothing more to do with this. 

Kaja was the one to help, hastily pull the piece of paper out with the notes scrawled across it. Once it was removed, Natia moved over towards her uniform pile and boots, gratefully pulling it into her arms.

" Who pissed in your tea this morning?" Cezar mumbled as Natia sent him a glare.

" I suggest you keep your mouth shut, Iskra, if you wish to keep those pearly whites." she said and then marched straight past him, shoving open the door in an angry fury, which led to the downstairs bunking rooms. The door slammed closed with a loud, rumbling nose, that shook the insides of the bunker.

" Was it something I said?" Cezar asked, with quite the sarcastic tone laced in as well. Dwad just sighed and shook his head casting a glance towards Angelika whose gaze was on Klimeck and Kaja. Klimeck was watching the door - she wished to chase after her sister, but this operation would never be completed in its entirety if it weren't planned, and they didn't have a lot of time. 

" I suggest it's best to just keep your mouth shut, Cezar. We all know what's happened." Angelika said quietly to Cezar whose eyes turned sad. 

Every member of the bunker knew of The Flip Children and the lose of their parents, and the massive impact it had taken on each of their lives. 

And Angelika knew that Natia only grew angrier by the day, each time they stepped out of the post, weapon in hand, ready to fight - Natia fought for her parents, each and every day, to avenge their death, something the ruthless Nazis did. 

Angelika knew that Natia always said without fail that if no one else would fight, she would and she was willing - always. 

If it meant her life would be taken as well - it was like Natia wanted to die at the hands of the Nazis, to see their cackling face, their big, blue eyes looking into her own. 

It was like Natia wanted to even just see what happened. 

It was heartless. 

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H I S T O R I C A L N O T E S

>> What the group of Resistance Fighters I have working on and portraying right now, is the plan to blow up a railroad, which was just one of the many acts of sabotage taken against the Nazis, done by the Polish Home Army and Resistance. In this case, since the Flip Children are SOE Agents, they are working across continental Europe to be the ones to gather the information and leave Headquarters back in Warsaw, Poland. 

>> The current location that this group is stationed in is Prague, part of a German-occupied Protectorate of Bohemia and Moravia, although originally in what was Czechoslovakia before the Germans overtook it then, during World War 2. It is also part of the Sudetenland, which was mentioned above, near the outskirts of present day Czech Republic. 

Prague did, in reality, take heavy causalities and bombings during the war. 

The Vltava River, in which their post resides beside, is in fact the longer river within the Czech Republic, and the bridge, the Manesuv Most, connects the two sides of Prague together at a certain point along the river. 

>> Through bouts of research, I discovered that statistically, more Polish woman have blue and green and hazel colored eyes compared to the brown in which Natia Filipska has - it is why she talks of wishing that she had eyes like what her parents and siblings had. 

>> It is true that on June 30th, 1943, General Stefan Rowecki ended up getting arrested by the Gestapo and taken to one of the prisons and murdered by Heinrich Himmler. He was the leader of the AK ( Armia Krajowa or the Polish Home Army ) and was buried peacefully in Warsaw, Poland. 

In this instance they refer to, the Flip Children were there when it happened and it relates to a point I make later in the story - it has to deal with Natia and why she hadn't used Agent Fidel for a bit as her name, it brought back too many memories from the period in which she watched him get taken and she could do nothing about it. 

A / N 

hello!! i can't even believe this is the third chapter update already, time sure does fly, doesn't it!! LOL! the next few chapters, personally are my favorite as we explore Natia individually more and her role in the Polish Home Army of the AK and we really see Nata/Agent Fidel at work, and who she is simply as an individual. thank you all so much for reading, giving me feedback, commenting and voting - i'm so excited to continue sharing this story with you all!!

_**thanks for reading!! <3** _


	5. The Pride of Poland

" It was pride that changed angels into devils; it is humility that makes men as angels."

_\- Saint Augustine_

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**_Prague, Protectorate of Bohemia and Moravia, German-occupied_ **

**_April 23rd, 1944_ **

**_0330_ **

Warsaw, Poland had not been the same since September 1st,1939 at 4:45 am, when the streets had been alive with sirens, the sounds of gunshots, screaming and complete utter terror filling the pits of everyone's' stomachs. It seemed the Poles were deemed inferior to the Nazi regime, it seemed ever since Adolf Hitler had risen to power in Nazi Germany, anyone who was different was deemed inferior. 

And to prevent the spread, it seemed violence and killing was his only solution. 

Natia's parents had been Intelligentsia, the cultural elites - writers, professors, teachers, lawyers, engineers - anyone who spread culture. Her mother a teacher, her father an engineer, sentenced to death for spreading their culture. 

The Nazis knew what they were doing when the killings happened, but so did the citizens - everyone knew, they weren't dumb, subjected to this life that the Nazis tried model for them all. It was sickening. 

Leaving behind her home for the SOE had been hard, but it had been the right thing to do - it was the only way to avenge her parents' deaths that had been performed by the ruthless Nazis. But the SOE, even though it had broken her, it only forced her to be built up by Death himself. 

Agent Mortem had tried to fix this broken thing, her broken wigs and tattered heart. But in the end, it had been a downfall, for both of hem. 

Sometimes broken things weren't meant to be fixed. 

Agent Mortem, a man who moved with a limp leg, and an old wooden cane, armed with nothing but his brain and a glare that could put one six feet under, had taken her under his wing when she had been reluctant, when she had been stubborn and unwilling to follow through. 

Standing with his priding smile, his upturned gaze, the chess board which haunted her dreams in front of her, he had broken her to her bare beginnings and crafted a monster. And Natia got to live with it, she got to live with it all. 

War seemed determined to keep a fighter like her; the war monster she was. She hadn't always been like this though - brought up in sunshine fields and piano keys, her life had been a good one, a happy one. She had Bach memorized like it were literature, and she felt something whenever she let herself just play. She hadn't touched a piano in 5 years and she vowed to never touch one again, the pain was far too great to let it consume her. 

But now, her fingers itched for the cool grasp of a pistol instead of the inviting key of a piano. 

Agent Mortem had taught her that. 

Every so often, she wished to let her fingers glide over the piano keys just once more, but the flooding memories which consumed her like poison were too much, far too much. The mere sound of one sent her spiraling. 

Maybe one day it would all change. 

Just maybe. 

_Maybe_. 

Natia quickly moved down the stares and turned the corner stepping into where a few couple tattered beds were in the bottom basement. 

Almost immediately she saw Zofia in the corner, tinkering with her memorable little radio, her light brown hair falling over her shoulders, as she tinkered and tinkered a bit more. 

Franciszek was a bit farther down at a desk, speaking quietly into a mic from a radio, his Polish a bit more slowed down than usual - the natural tripping over the words a hint that he wasn't entirely Polish, but it never got anyone hurt in the end. 

A man of many languages, French, Polish, German and the dead language of Latin tended to follow him through in more ways than one. 

French was for when Polish was deemed dangerous and German risky. 

Polish for when French could get your head accompanied by a bullet and when German was viewed as perturbed. 

German for when Polish meant you had an early appointment with Death and French was identified as spy-worthy material. 

Latin was good for any case scenario - sure you could speak it, but it was technically a dead language so what was the point? Franciszek rather liked to just say curse words in Latin to see Zofia's pissed off reaction. It was quite amusing. 

Natia cast a glance back over towards where she knew Felicjan would be - sarcastic and morally coded as he was - he worked with Kaja on coordinates. Natia had been surprised he wasn't up with the others. A rather twitchy guy, standing still never seemed to be an option. 

Coming around the corner, she saw him hunched over a long list of locations - the names where they were sending the people they'd managed to rescue. They had secret encampments everywhere - underground, abandoned towns the Nazis had long forgotten about, guards for all. It was quite the process but it worked.

" Natia Filipska don't act like I don't know you're standing right there." Felicjan said, making a few other marks beside multiple names of towns. 

" Why are you not up with the others?" she asked him, her voice neutral.

" You sound as if you've seen a ghost." Felicjan chuckled out and Natia rolled her eyes.

" Just answer the damn question," she said, crossing her arms.

" Frances over there been's pulling information out of his ass for the past 6 hours, can't catch a break, so I figured I'd help him out a bit." Felicjan said. Natia raised a brow at him as he turned to face her.

" Don't act so surprised," Felicjan muttered, " I can be helpful when help is needed."

" Right," Natia said stepping past him towards the bathroom, or a cloth over a room where a bucket was, " you've always been so helpful to me."

" Piss off." muttered Felicjan, marking another mark on the paper as Natia smirked stepping past the cloth. The one thing about Felicjan that always made her feel better was that he never judged her for her outbursts, like the others sometimes did, because usually he lost it as well, and then they'd share a smoke and it'd be done with. He was a good drinking and smoking buddy. 

The bathroom had always been rather musty, the corners rotting out quite a bit - Prague had been bombed before, relentlessly, it was no surprise a singular room like this was in such a similar condition like its entire city. 

The mirror had some cracks in it - Dwad had tinkered with it, trying to fix it up, clean it a bit - but it never worked, he was always called away for things. The bathroom always seemed the least of everyone's worries. 

Natia slowly set her uniform on the side of the sink and immediately was pulling the uncomfortable dress from her body. A blast of chilly night air hit her and she shivered, immediately reaching for the uniform, which sat folded as neatly as possible - thank you Angelika. 

Most Home Army uniforms revolved around clothing scrounged up by some of the younger members who went out each and every night and scrounged for clothing from the bodies that lie in the streets or from piles that were collected by the Nazis or other Resistance Members, solemnly being watched by Death himself. 

Natia's happened to be her uniform from years ago - it was like the war had stunted her growth. 

Entering the war as an 18 year old was already bad enough in 1939, but 5 years later as a 23 year old, the same 'everything' essentially as 5 years ago, happened to be a cause for concern. And she knew by 18 you would stop growing, but it never failed to get to her head sometimes and make her feel like she were soon to die young - not that she already wasn't dead. 

Natia's uniform happened to be that of a German Field Uniform from 1942 - one she had killed herself and stripped the uniform clean off him. But that's how most people got their uniforms - how else were they supposed to? They had no constant flow of supplies in or out - and you had to do what you had to do to obtain any supplies you wished. It was merely war. The uniforms had a good amount of green in them, but for Natia - 2 years of wear and tare and blood speckling parts, it was more of a grey now. 

Knee boats were only for some of the best fighters - and that was if they fit. 

_Natia didn't wear knee boots._

She had stolen boots from a Nazi back in 1941 as he was showering in one of the open baths that the Nazis had resorted to using. It had been 11 at night, dark as anything and Natia had followed the whistling long enough. No shoes had been on her feet for quite some time - she had given them to a younger member. But she was willing to steal for them, it was war. 

That was her constant excuse, but she couldn't think of another and just kept with it. 

That had been when she still had a heart. 

After pulling on the uniform, she sat on the ground and pulled on the slightly wet socks and then the boots before carefully lacing them up with a quick nature. 

The Home Army symbol usually sat on her upper arm, but she could not fully attach it until they were safely back in Poland - that would not be for quite some time. The arm band had to be the closest thing to home Natia almost always had in her nearby grasp - the Kotwica - an anchor as a symbol on the side of it which represented the Home Army. She took pride in that, mostly because she always took pride in her country and if fighting for her life, even risking it for that flag, that anchor, meant a freed country by the end of this war, she would do it over and over again, without question. 

Standing to her feet, Natia watched herself in the mirror. Her icy gaze pierced her own soul, tangling around her cold heart. Natia grabbed the dress and then the field cap as well. 

Each member of their team had uniforms similar to this, tailored to their own fittings, which Angelika had especially helped with. Angelika had worked in a tailor's shop with her mother and father before Warsaw had been invaded - she still had a knack for it with her nimble fingers. 

Natia pushed through the cloth and walked back out into the room, hearing Franciszek still working through radio call after radio call and Zofia tirelessly working on the radio in her lap - a rather large radio at that, but once again she was perfect for the job with her own nimble fingers and likable personality. 

Felicijan was now removed from his spot and she heard footsteps moving across the entirety of the space above her - he was upstairs again - the man couldn't stay still really - EVER. Natia flung the dress towards where her sack lay messily spread upon her bed and approached Zofia so that Fransiczek had quiet as he communicated on the radio.

" Zofia." Natia whispered and in almost an instance, the brown haired woman turned, her eyes lighting up like the sun at the sight of Natia beside her.

" You're back!" she let out in a hushed tone, and Natia let a small smile spread on her features.

" How'd it go?" Zofia asked as Natia kneeled by her side and the radio.

" We got the location, plus cargo." Natia explained, " Double the cargo."

" You fucking kidding me?" Zofia muttered, " I was on call with Fieldrof all day, he said the camps were set, no news of doubling cargo. Fuck." 

" I know, I know, I know, it's...it's not what we planned for, but we're getting people out of there alive, that's all that matters. And it's if Gernstein didn't lie." Natia said and Zofia nodded, before slamming her hand on the side of the large radio, a loud banging sound echoing around the entire room.

" Hey!" a voice snapped, slurred between that of French, Polish and English accents. Fransiczek - they'd already managed to interrupt him.

" What?" mimicked Zofia, equally pissed, " It wouldn't go in."

" You have an entire post and you decide to sit with me," he murmured, before going back on the phone and switching back into rushed Polish. Natia snickered shaking her head.

" You still on about not trusting this guy?" Zofia asked. Zofia knew about Natia's 'no-trust' rule, even before they were formally put into this situation, after Natia's parents' death, she trusted no one, and it had only grown worse for her.

" Yes," Natia said, " I'm vying for a mission, scope him out. I even said I'd do it myself, but the looks I got upstairs weren't the most receptive of it, it seemed." Zofia watched her. 

" Are you feeling okay?" Zofia asked and Natia pulled a look.

" Yeah, I'm fine." she answered as if she were offended. But this was the trust talking. 

If anyone knew anything about Natia, it was that she never accepted help from anyone - and Natia knew that was a problem, but ignorance was bliss. And she could handle herself - she had for 5 years and look where she was. 

Recklessness ran rampant though - it was uncontrollable, like an addiction.

" So, location?" Zofia asked her.

" Dresden," Natia confirmed," and of course, once we reroute, we'll be escorting them towards Teplice; vying if we have enough spots open. If need be, I can take lead on escorting more to Krupka." 

Zofia didn't show it, but the way Natia was now talking was like she was on drugs. Misson on Gernstein, lead on extra escaped people from trains. But she held herself. After 5 years, sometimes recklessness was the only thing that got you through the war.

" Right," Zofia said, " Krupka, Teplice, a total of...6.1 kilometers, straight shot." She worked on the map that lay beside her, crumpled and yellowed - an older version of the maps they used, but Zofia always said, if it's a map and I can still see things on it, it's still a map. She's been using it since 1941 - no one could take it from her.

" Alright, well, I have to go check on whatever might possibly be occurring upstairs - and hoping I don't have to break a fight between Klimeck and Felicjan again." Natia said and Zofia chuckled, banging against the radio again, quieter this time.

" Yeah, have fun, we don't need a repeat of last year." Zofia said and Natia had to swallow the chuckle. It had been simply over the location of plans for a transport and Klimeck had swore the plans were for the town of Chemnitz, while Felicjan had argued they were for Leipzig - Klimeck had been right, but the battle had lasted for a few weeks later. It had been annoying as anything. 

Natia slowly made her way to the stairs again and slowly moved up and into the main meeting area where a majority of the members now were.

" Ah, the ice Queen returns from her palace." Cezar called as Natia entered the warm room. 

" Funny." she muttered as she entered and Cezar chuckled, as Ryzshard slowly approached her with a plate of food.

" You want some? You downed a few drinks on an empty stomach," Ryzshard said and Natia gave him a half smile.

" I'm okay," she answered with a shrug," really." Ryzshard sent her a slightly confused gaze, raising a brow.

" Are you sure?" Ryzshard asked her.

" Yeah, yeah, fine, don't worry about me." she said, a similar forced smile like the ones from the past 5 years floating onto her face as if on instinct - and she could see the hurt in Ryzshard's eyes, the pain of seeing his sister absolutely crumbling in front of him behind her icy gate.

" Nat..." Ryzshard whispered, as Angelika laughed at something Felicjan said behind them at the table, " please, just something, for me, for Klimeck." 

" For mom and dad." muttered Ryzshard and Natia looked down almost instantly, her heart hit almost instantly as if it were a bullet wound. 

Squeezing her eyes shut, her breathing rate steadily increased, a slight rage overcoming her entire being as she let out a shaky breath.

" I'm fine, Ry, please." she said, " I'm just not hungry, especially at 4 am." Ryzshard watched her, complete and utter pain and anguish spread across his features. 

" Maybe in the morning." she said, placing a hand on his shoulder and encouragingly nodding up towards him. 

With a squeeze of his shoulder, Natia stepped around him and towards the group. 

It's not like she wasn't hungry, or that she was trying not to eat food - but with the looks of the current war, she had no hope in her escape alive, with all her 10 fingers and 10 toes, with her soul. 

Where was hope in war, when you had lost it so long ago to a force you had no control over whatsoever? 

Not eating was merely just a side-effect, because even though she could feel her stomach cramping and aching and squeezing itself so tightly, she could not bare to stomach food after having to interact with the vile scum of the enemy, shaking their hand, look at their eyes which had seen far more death and destruction than anyone - of simply the human race.

It physically made her so sick to her stomach and food was anything but what she wanted. 

She wished she could be held again, by her mother and father, late at night, looking up through the luminous window towards the moon which shone brightly down atop of her head. But that dream would never occur again, ever. She was too far gone for that, and so was the war-torn Poland. 

Hope for her festered and dwindled almost instantaneously, like lighting a match and thinking the wick of a candle would catch light and maybe there was finally a brightness - only for the dark evil, the wind to come and blow it out in the snap of his fingers. 

And suddenly there was no light, or hope, only a deep and cruel darkness consuming every inch of her entire being, every fiber, every muscle, every bone, every nerve, every cell. 

Darkness consumed the cracked pits of her body, and seeped in like poison - and sometimes there was no escaping - ever again.

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H I S T O R I C A L N O T E S

> Intelligentsia or cultural elites were members of the society of culture in Warsaw, Poland that were ordinary people - doctors, engineers, teachers, journalists, etc - that essentially were the ones who spread the culture of the Polish citizens of Poland. Nearly 2 years before Poland was invaded, the Nazis had been curating a list of 61,000 members of Polish Elites to then exterminate upon entry into Poland called the Special Prosecution Book-Poland, where Polish Elites were executed in the German AB-Aktoin in Poland and the Intelligenzaktion, and the Intelligenzaktion Pommern. 

Natia Filipska's parents were cultural elites, a teacher and engineer respectively, and in the course of the story you'll learn what happened to them, as it is highly realistic to what actually occurred in Warsaw at the time. 

The aspect of the piano and music will also become highly important later on in the segment of the story - be on the lookout ;) 

> Agent Mortem is a fictional character created by me for the impact of the story - his importance does not truly come out until later in the story, but his name will continually pop up in various parts throughout the context of the story, so keep your eye out for him. Definitely an important person who impacted Natia. 

> It is true that most Home Army or AK uniforms were from stripped dead Nazis that were scattered around the city. Natia's is a fairly close description of what many looked like.

> The Kotwica is the symbol of the Polish Home Army or AK (Armia Krajowa) and it an anchor depicted over top the red and white flag of Poland. 

A / N - I M P O R T A N T 

_hey friends!! this is a special announcement that with today's update - there are 2 CHAPTERS! yes, 2 chapters for today - this one and the following **5 | Irony At Its Finest**. I felt that 4 + 5 really just went simply together and they couldn't be updated separately - so that's how we got two chapter updates today. This won't always happen, but for these chapters, I felt it were necessary and I truly hope you enjoy these - they are highly important chapters and I'm very excited to showcase SOLO AGENT FIDEL ;) _


	6. Irony At Its Finest

" Oh but that's the irony, broken people are not fragile."

_\- Clinton Sammy Jr_

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**_Prague, Protectorate of Bohemia and Moravia_ **

**_German-Occupied_ **

**_April 23rd, 1944_ **

_**0500** _

It was 5 am and she still hadn't fallen asleep after the vast majority of the group had retreated downstairs to their bunks, finally falling into their beds, the door securely locked upstairs, light turned out and no exposed maps lying around the premise. 

Natia lay staring up towards the stone ceiling, listening to some of the snores radiate around the room, soft breaths leaving the lips of some, mumbling and shifting occurring from others. 

But Natia lay stark still, wide awake.

The sun would be up in an hour and a half and she would still be lying here, eyes bloodshot, staring at the ceiling. 

There had been too much that had happened in the span of 24 hours. 

To Austria and back - for the plans, for a simple stab in the Third Reich, for the fulfillment of plans to hopefully slowly crumble the Nazis. But it's what kept her mind racing and her heart pounding wildly. 

The adrenaline never left her veins, it was a constant cycle of finally calming down and then concurring another plan, executing it and having the same sleeping issues. And sure, she would fall asleep in random corners throughout the day, but at night, there was no rest for the restless. Only the torture of trying to close your eyes as the others went to bed instantly and having absolutely no luck in the end. 

And it was that battle, a stupid mental battle of your mind having too many tumultuous thoughts that overpowered the other until each got louder and louder inside your head until the point where she just wanted to scream and scream and scream until it finally were quiet again and only hope that the pain would soon subside as well. 

Natia grunted and slowly sat up, pulling the crinkled covers that were paper thin from her body and flipped her legs over the side of the bed, feeling a slight cold breeze against her calves. She shivered - but not a lot. 

There were worse bitter chills than that of an early morning draft. 

Natia slowly pushed herself to her feet, reaching forward to grab her coat which hung from the bed post and carefully pulled it over her shoulders, shrugging it up until the collar cuddled her neck a bit. Natia slowly turned her gaze and retreated out of the room from the snoring Resistance members, her boots slowly creaking their way up the slowly turning staircase towards the darkened and still slightly warm meeting room. 

Natia slowly shut the oak door behind herself and then walked forward to stand in the middle of the room. In the center of the room, there was a rather large glass window frame, that allowed you to look up towards the sky. 

Natia preferred to look towards the night sky - she was safer in the dark anyways. 

Natia slowly crossed her arms and let out a shaky sigh, glancing around the large meeting room. Her eyes caught upon the desk where mapping was usually done. Her deep brown eyes flicked towards the clothed curtain that separated entry from living space and then slowly faced towards to table again, taking gentle, padding steps towards it.

Gernstein - the man was on her mind again. 

Leaning up against the table, her eyes slowly moved along the surface of it - a pencil. 

Reaching forward, Natia took it within her grasp, eyes slowly moving along for paper, keeping her senses in check as she did so. 

Slowly moving around the table, she let herself be seated in the nearby chair, her hands feeling colder by the second in the dark room. But she had to get it off her mind - she had to do something, she couldn't just let him eat away at her. 

Kurt Gernstein was a Nazi, he was apart of the SS - and even though he stated repeatedly that he did this to get information out there for the Allies - it never quite reached the Allies. And that made Natia already question him - she always had. 

Trusting a Nazi - who claimed plenty of times he was an Agent of the Confessing Church. He still wore the uniform and had tea with Hitler - _he was a Nazi_. And even if they had to trust him for now - Natia would never. 

She needed a plan. 

Her eyes slowly drifted towards the file case Klimeck lugged practically everywhere. It had information on all the latest missions of the year, files on anyone their group came in contact with, nearly anything that could be of hand to them, right in there. 

Natia bit back her lip and then swiftly turned, reaching down and searching through the files beneath her numb finger tips.

" Gernstein, Gernstein, Gernstein..." Natia mumbled past her lips, eyes trying to catch for a ' **G** ' letter in the darkness. Then she found it and her blood ran cold. Never before had she his file - she had willingly walked into his gaze, under the name of Ingrid Fischer and taken information like it was candy. 

Now his file sat underneath her finger tips. 

Natia clenched her jaw and then pulled the file up and out and laid it carefully upon the table, her eyes searching the entire surface of the slightly faded green folded or torn and folded paper. Natia slowly flipped open the cover and let her eyes thoroughly scan the information. 

Running through old reports, signed documentation, secret decoded messages from Zofia, reports on Zyklon B, anything and everything. He was a mystery - he always would be, too. 

What made him such a mystery was his willingness to work with the Allies and be so willing to pass along information to them about the camps and the Zyklon B shipments. 

Maybe she was just paranoid, but she swore the look in his eye had been unsettling - and she didn't want that to end in the death of her friends. 

Natia quickly found his most recent report. Her eyes trailed over the words, sucking in each and every last drop of information that she could out of it.

_After discussion with Fidel and Legio, I will be moving out towards Munich late at night under the cover of darkness. I will be staying in the Führerbau._

Munich. 

He would be in Munich, which meant by the time she hopped in the car and drove there, he would be in Munich. Munich was the birthplace of Nazism - and it crawled with them, every corner, every street, every lamp post, there were Nazis. It was risky, but she was willing. 

And the Führerbau was almost in the center of Munich - she had been there quite a few times before under the name of Agent Fidel, working as Ingrid Fischer, serving tea to Leutnants that surrounded the place, sucking in information like a sponge that later alerted of a bombing of Pilsen. She felt she had almost been there too many times.

_The Führer has been requesting my presence recently to keep him updated on Zyklon B stock and such percentages. A rather horrid ordeal but I've managed. If you need anymore information, you can please contact me from there - they won't see the transmission._

Munich. 

She was going to go to Munich. 

Natia quickly slammed the file shut, turning to slip the packet into it's area in the case, before writing a few things down upon the paper and folding it up as she stood. Natia looked around the darkened room and then slowly made her way downstairs again, carefully as to not wake anyone who was in the room. 

She had to leave - she had to go - _right now_. 

Because after Munich there was no further conversation. 

Natia had made the lone drive from Prague to Munich plenty of times before, for she was Ingrid Fischer, a name that danced on the tongues of the Nazis when the time came. But Natia hated it - for it reminded her of her time actually spent with the Nazis gathering more and more gruesome information that rotted inside her soul.

It was a 3 hour drive - she could arrive by 9. 

Walking through the bunks of sleeping Resistance members, there was a chance that a slight pang of guilt had infiltrated her system when she saw Ryzshard innocently curled up on his bunk, soft snores escaping his lips, his thumb near his mouth - even as a child he almost always sucked his thumb in his sleep. It was out of habit, a worry, a coping mechanism for him at times. 

It made her squeeze her eyes shut for a moment and try to forget about it - she had a mission to attend to. Natia reached her bunk and immediately crouched by the side. 

Her Błyskawica submachine gun lay carefully on it's side under her bed, hidden amongst the shadows, and the slight dawning light that flickered from the nearby candle on Zofia's bed side - she never failed to leave a candle on each and every night. 

But Zofia never let the dark consume her fully either. 

Natia slowly pulled the weapon out from underneath the bed, safely securing it into her arms. It was the design of the German MP40, a mock up back in 1943 that the Home Army had made an ordeal for. But it was no longer a German weapon of war, but a Polish one. 

Natia took pride in that as she held it against her chest. 

A weapon of Poland - her Poland. 

Her country, her pride and complete utter joy. It deserved to be avenged for each and every way the Nazis had treated it and using their model for a weapon against them in war, made the revenge just as sweet. They all slept in their gear and uniforms whenever they were to spend one night in the posts - she hadn't worn a set of pajamas in 5 years, what was the difference now? 

So, she softly slipped the weapon over her shoulder and reached under again, her hand patting around for her sidearm - _okay it was not her sidearm_ \- it was the Nazi's sidearm from 1941 that she had ripped from his cold dead body out on a night mission in Poland after she had parachuted into Poland - but that's besides the point. 

It was hers now.

" There you are," she whispered quietly, her shaky hands grasping the cold, metallic handle in her own hands before pulling forward and from the shadows. She carefully put it into her holster at her side, bringing the flap of the uniform down over top to hide it from sight. She knew she couldn't walk in and be wearing this outfit out of all things - it would be obvious she were Polish and of no German descent whatsoever, especially in the birthplace of Nazism - but if she were merely sneaking in, would it even be a bother? 

_Nope_. 

Natia slowly stood and then moved quickly through the bunks, patting her pocket, and feeling the map rustle a bit inside. 

Still there. 

Natia moved to the steps and gave one final glance towards the members that lay asleep under her gaze. They'd be angry, Natia knew that much, but she needed to know that her and her friends were safe on this portion of the mission - because if they weren't and it was Gernstein's fault, Natia would not be afraid to make him pay for it, for it all. 

Hurrying up the steps, careful that her feet would pad quietly across the surface of the cool, metal stairs, Natia hurried through the darkened room, her wide and alert eyes searching for the keys. 

Pure adrenaline was igniting her body like a drug. She hadn't slept in 24 hours and she assumed by this rational she wouldn't sleep for another 24 more - there was a duty to follow, sleep was easy to risk for that.

" Keys, key, keys.." she repeated to herself like it were a mantra, her eyes scanning each decent amount of counter space for the jangly gold. 

Where had Dwad put them? 

Natia moved into the kitchen, pushing through the cloth over the kitchen door, stepping into the musty kitchen, eyes searching the area for the shiny thing. 

Dwad almost always came in here before bed, here or any post, and would place the keys on the coat hanger and make tea, if tea happened to be available. 

Hanger. Coat hanger. 

Natia turned her gaze upon the coat hanger and saw something glinting, but it was glinting inside the coat, not upon the pegs. Natia lurched forward, digging her hand into the pocket, her tingly finger tips touching the silver and immediately her hand clenched as she yanked the keys from the pocket and into her grasp. 

_Perfect_. 

Walking out of the kitchen with her prize in hand, Natia approached the main entry room again and proceeded to write out a scrawled note, letting the group know where she'd be and that she'd be back. She always would return, through hell and high water, Natia returned. 

Then Natia swung the keys around her finger, before making way towards the oak door. 

Natia softly placed her hand on the door and for a moment she froze. It was like back home - 4:45 am, September 1st, 1939. She had heard the sirens in the street. She remembered waking up and it was still dark outside. Her mother had been crying. She remembered opening the door to a completely different world - a different world than what she had previously closed the door on the night before. 

A war-torn world. A country that would no longer be her country. 

Natia shook out of it, her body jumping herself back to reality in almost an instance. She swallowed thickly and licked her lips, feeling her heart rate increase the slightest bit. 

No. She was _fine_. 

That was in the past. And the past was not relevant to her current motive. Her hand was shaking, she could feel it - she felt something - a trembling, slight ache in her hand. 

No. 

She squeezed her hand up into a fist, clenching her jaw and squeezing her eyes shut. 

_No_. 

_Stop_. 

She was feeling, feeling the shake of her hand, all of it. 

_No_. 

Natia forced her eyes open as she sucked in a small, shaky breath and let it go into the thin air around her. 

Forcefully pulling the door open again, she prepared to shadow herself into Agent Fidel - highly unreliable at times, but she got the job done right? 

Agent Fidel was merely Natia Filipska except she wasn't faithful. 

Ironic right? 

Natia slowly shut the door behind her as she stepped into the cool morning air, and under the cover of darkness she hurried forward up the cobblestone path, her weapon hitting her shoulder lightly, the pistol slamming against her thigh, with each footstep forward, and her heart pounding in her chest with each breath. 

Gernstein. Gernstein. Gernstein. 

If he lied, if he brought them closer to Death, Death might just be getting a new friend. 

Natia came up towards the end of the road and gently looked both ways. It was clear. It was 5:30 in the morning - she didn't suspect anyone but farmers awake at the time. Natia slowly moved forward and then picked up her pace up the street, moving towards the alley where the car lay parked. Natia turned the corner and then suddenly froze. 

Standing by the car, a man positioned in a Nazi uniform moved around the edges, inspecting it with a glowing torch. Natia gritted her teeth, goosebumps rising on her body, her limbs growing rigid. Natia's hand slowly moved towards the pistol, her fingers itching for it's comforting grasp. The torch softly moved towards the back of the vehicle. 

Natia's hands were on her pistol in seconds and she slowly pulled it up in front of her face and slowly began walking forward, weapon aimed right at the man by the vehicle.

" Hands up." Natia snapped, her cold German, spine tingling by the tongue, and utterly icy. 

" And who are you to tell me-"

" Hands. UP!" Natia snapped again, her body ridged, the end of the pistol pointed right towards the man in the Nazi uniform. 

_He was quite short._

She watched the man's hands slowly rise up into the air in almost an instance.

" Who are you? You have no right to speak to me-"

" Stop. Talking." Natia snapped.

" No I won't! You have no right to be speaking to me in such a horrid way! You piece of scum!" he said.

" Look who's talking." she murmured, before clearing her throat, keeping her voice neutral," You have two ways out of this. You either leave the residence of the car and we never speak of such an altercation or you continue to fight my will and I shoot you as a last resort and Death escorts you come. Your choice." 

" My? My choice? How ridiculous could you possibly be! You're just a child!" he stammered and Natia's finger neared the trigger.

" A child with a loaded gun." she called back in the standoff. She heard the German chuckle.

" You really are quite arrogant." he called back, " Might I add quite cowardly?"

" Why's that?" Natia called back, slowly moving closer with each step, her finger playing on the trigger like it were a dance. 

" You would've pulled the trigger already." he called back as Natia began to see his face under the moonlight.

" Maybe," Natia offered, " but then how inhuman would that be? Without giving the enemy the chance to put his fixings in the pot?" 

" Rebel scum." he snapped back, and Natia smirked softly.

" I may be a rebel, but at least I'm proud." she answered. She heard the Nazi snicker, his own inhuman laughs escaping past his lips. 

" A proud Polack." he spat back and a nerve shook in her body.

" Shut up." she snapped. 

" Oh have I upset the child? My, my, shall I be shot yet?" he said humoring himself, cackling. Natia clenched her jaw, fire blazing in her eyes.

" Run along to your home, child. Get some rest." he called, " You're too young to be awake." 

" Shoot the gun.." Natia whispered to herself, " just shoot the gun."

" Look I've told you already, get your ass home, child!" he called, pulling his gun from its holster hands moving to his side," I've told you already-" 

A single gun shot echoed out. 

And the smoke came from Natia's own weapon. 

Her hand barely trembled anymore when she fired a shot. 

His body lay slumped upon the ground, curled into itself, cover lay beside him on the ground - fallen off his head by such impact that the bullet had inflicted. 

Natia slowly lowered her weapon, eyes remaining on the sight of his dead body. 

Bullets flew left and right around here - it wasn't much of a wonder that no one came running. 

Natia slowly lowered the weapon into her holster and then stepped forward, steps filled with a rising anger. She knelt down by the Nazi's side and flipped him onto his back, staring down at his paling face, his lifeless eyes staring up towards the darkened sky. Natia stared at him - cold, lifeless - _she felt quite similar_. She stripped him of anything he had upon his body almost immediately. He had his own P38 - a newer version. He had the torch on him as well - but no main weapon and no grenades - he seemed rather confident that he wouldn't need something of the sort. She frowned. Then her eyes fell over his uniform.

" Fuck me," she muttered. 

Natia was sure by this point that her guardian angel did nothing but drink. 

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H I S T O R I C A L N O T E S 

> Munich is, in fact, the birthplace of Nazism - ironic that it is where Natia is destined to go when she is a Resistance fighter. 

> The Błyskawica submachine is essentially the Polish version of the German MP40 - but the Polish Resistance was able to obtain many German weapons throughout the war that they would then model for their own uses - other examples include things like tanks, flame throwers, and different grenades. 

A / N 

_AH YES! this upcoming chapter is definitely one of my favorites - we see natia in action and yeah, I LOVE IT!! XD it's a joy to write a character as reckless as herself, it's something new and fresh and exciting! it's so fun!! thank you for reading this little 2 chapter update and i'll see you in a week!! :)_


	7. The Curse of Silence

" Silence is the biggest gift and the worse curse."

_\- No One_

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**_Prague, Protectorate of Bohemia and Moravia_ **

**_German-occupied_ **

**_April 23rd, 1944_ **

**_0630_ **

The second Natia slid into the car she felt uncomfortable. 

The Nazi uniform was uncomfortable - it was like it were the dress. 

And everywhere she felt her skin crawling, each and every piece of her. 

The enemy - she wore his uniform for her own protection. 

Natia sucked in a deep breath. 

_Stay calm._

Her hair was up in the mess of the cover - with a Nazi emblem on it. Natia shut her eyes, squeezing them real tight. The gloves were slicked with sweat - was it hers or the Nazis? She would never know. The boots clasped around her ankles were double-tied - she always sported a double tie. 

Ever since she could walk, she had adorned the double tie of shoelaces - she never strayed from it. 

_Focus_. _Munich_. _Gernstein_. 

Natia fumbled for the key she had slid into the pocket of the uniform and quickly started the ignition. She was sweating - everywhere - two uniforms was not brilliant but to ensure the safety of her friends, she'd bear to sweat a little. 

Natia glanced at herself in the rearview mirror - she looked like a Nazi - and it stung in her heart. The brown eyes had enough will to counter it though. Her light brown hair was pushed up into the cover atop her head, slicked back so it looked as if it were a man's hair, and her eyes were similar to the normal piercing eyes of the Nazis. 

Maybe being numb would finally become of use. 

Her eyes read it all - pain, anger, grief, sadness - too many emotions that Natia refrained from letting spill over like a waterfall. She looked like a brainwashed Nazi. Natia sighed to herself. She'd fit right in. She patted around for his papers which had to be in a pocket somewhere - they had to be. She found them. 

Crumpled up inside the inner pocket, which was already warmer than the outside world. She was sweating. Natia slowly dug her hand inside and pulled out the papers. 

Georg Albrecht - Luetnant Georg Albrecht - stationed in Prague. 

There was more information in German, thank God she could read it quite easily as well. 

_Notes scrawled from his own hand._

Natia slowly flipped the flap closed and sighed shoving the paper back into its place. _Munich_. Natia slowly eased the car forward, moving down the rest of the street before coming towards the end of the alleyway. 

Turning left onto the road, she picked up pace through the streets of Prague, in the direction of Munich - it all came flooding back, the feeling of her hands on the wheel, flying through the streets of Warsaw, Klimeck trying not to sob beside her, holding in gasping cries as Ryzshard sat numbly in the back seat tears streaking down his cheeks, eyes looking out the window at 2 in the morning. Natia shook her head. 

Stop it. 

That was the past. 

She couldn't dwell. 

Natia arrived in Munich around 9, just as she had suspected and silently cursed herself knowing the vast majority of the group back in Prague would be awakening soon. 

Rolling to a stop, Natia watched from under the brim of the sweltering cover as two Nazis walked across the street - proudly, confidently, slightly even narcissistic as they passed an older gentleman on the road in what could be thought of as the poor attire - they looked at him as if he were a rat. 

Natia would never look upon a human with such thought - except the enemy. The enemy could be looked upon as if they were rats - they all acted the same, brainwashed human beings, monitored to do the same harmful and horrid things that they were breed to do - rats were simply the same. The sun shone brightly down upon them, the town of Munich which looked virtually unaffected by the war that ran rapid like a plague. 

How could an outsider not be disgusted? 

Natia followed the streets - the Führerbau was on the corner of Brienner Straße and Arcisstraße right near the Karolinenplatz - a public plaza for citizens. Driving through the streets was already unsettling enough but people acting like there wasn't a war on was even more unsettling and it bothered her. 

Because all she felt was simply just war. And she never felt anything more than the war - it was like she was addicted to it, risking herself in every possible situation to bring herself closer to war. Her fingers clenched around the steering wheel and she had to slowly unclench them as she pulled to another stop. 

Anger was a sucky motivator. 

When Natia approached the Führerbau, she let the vehicle, rumbling in exhaust, pull up along the side, where spots lay ready for parking. The second Natia pulled into the spot, she let out a shaky sigh and slowly turned off the car. This had to work. And she had to make sure he wasn't lying. 

She wasn't sure if it were too impulsive - the entire situation - driving out at 'zero-dark-thirty', to find a man they already established their trust in. 

But he was a _Nazi_. 

The symbol stuck in her mind like a headache. 

He was a Nazi. 

And that's why she never trusted a Nazi. 

Kurt Gernstein - a man willing to give up information for 3 years, which ultimately got nowhere in the end - Natia had a gut reaction they were walking into a trap. But what if they weren't? 

_Shut up Natia._

She needed to focus her mind, really focus. If she let the thoughts control, she'd turn right around. But right below the massive Nazi flags, her blood boiled. 

_Yeah, she was doing it._

Georg Albrecht - that was her name. She was not Natia or Agent Fidel or Ingrid Fischer - she was the name of a dead man. 

At least he had been short. 

Natia kicked open the door, rather not-at-all gracefully, before her feet touched the ground in the Nazi boots. Even the thought made her skin curl. Standing up in the broad, morning daylight was an odd feeling. Because in Munich you were safe if you were a Nazi, you were even safer if you wore a Nazi uniform - but you weren't 100% safe. 

Never. Even in war. 

The emblem remained a stone cold reminder of who you were. Natia hoped to burn the uniform later. 

Natia softly let the door shut behind her as she stood and looked up towards the Führerbau in all it's intimidating glory. Natia clenched and unclenched her fists as nervousness filled her body. This could be the end, this could be her demotion, why she were kicked out, risking it all to ensure the safety of her friends - it was worth it and that's what she always told herself. 

Natia stepped around the vehicle and up onto the sidewalk where pedestrians walked along it, talking quietly under the breath to one another in their native German, their fancy outfits adorned in lace and beads, heels clicking, gentlemen smoking, and a yip or two from dogs that followed at the ankle. 

There was a war on right? 

Natia stepped closer, her heart giving a dull pound with each oncoming step that slowly grew near. Moving up the marble steps, she approached the door where two Nazis stood guard, young at that, their gazes relaxed.

" Shit," she muttered under her breath - hopefully _this_ guy never knew _these_ two guys, she could only dream. As Natia approached, the nearest one turned his gaze upon her. Devilishly handsome. She scowled internally. Because she knew what she would have to do next. 

" Heil Hitler!" the two performed in synchronized acts. Natia's stomach twirled, an angry rush of butterflies.

" Heil Hitler!" she called, her voice deeper than she would've expected coming out, her gaze stern, unnerving - she could see it settled into both of their very souls. 

Maybe looking like Ryzshard was a good thing. 

And with that Natia was through, stepping into the fairly cool lobby which was filled with people. And she didn't even think to reach up her hand to remove the hat. 

Stepping forward, she let the brim of the slightly large cover slide over her brown eyes - another dead giveaway. She made a show of clearing her throat and putting her gloved hand over her mouth to do so as she stepped around people talking, smoking, wandering. It was a mess of people. 

Now to take a wild guess as to where Kurt Gernstein would reside - it could be anywhere, but she couldn't wander everywhere. 

She'd look lost, helpless, confused - things that a Nazi was not. 

Things that Natia was not. But Natia refused to even compare herself to Nazi scum. It put a bad, offsetting taste in the back of her mouth. 

Natia spotted a glowing map near the welcoming desk - a map of the rooms of the Führerbau. Natia made way towards it, eyeing up the curious thing. A glowing map, how peculiar. Never before had she seen a map glow like it was. As she approached it, her eyes traveled upon the length of it.

" Something you are looking for, good sir." a voice said and Natia turned slightly, a bit confused to see an older gentleman beside her, wiry hair, a thin mustache, a wise smirk on his face. 

" I have a meeting to attend, with Kurt Gernstein - I have been given note by my Heerführer. Top of my group when it comes to diseases and sickness. He has requested my presence." Natia confirmed.

" Well then you ought to head on up the B staircase, the meeting rooms are on the right, they overlook the Wiese an der Glyptothek, quite a lovely park for a young gentleman like you." he explained.

" Thank you," Natia said coldly, her gaze unfocused on the man, rather the glowing staircase on the right of the welcoming desk.

" You look quite pale, are you feeling okay?" the man asked her, eyes concerned. He was a Nazi - her eyes flamed.

" Hayfever." she responded before stepping around him making way towards staircase B and towards Kurt Gernstein. The truth always came out when you were least suspecting it - she just hoped he had already told her the truth. 

Natia made way up the staircase, her eyes slowly coming level with the long hallway, aglow with lights that lined the sides of both walls, people mingling in the halls. Any room Gernstein was is, the door was closed. It was always closed - every secret meeting with him - the door was closed. And he had told them - the Flip Children - that whenever a door was closed and he was in the proximity, he was most likely there. Every door she passed was open, but as she moved farther down they were all closed.

" Shit," she murmured and then glanced up and down the hall. Taking a willing leap of faith she leaned up against the door to take a listen. No voices - silence. 

_Silence_.

It was quiet. Next door - no voices, and silence with an answer. 3rd door though, that was the one which withheld the voices. Natia sucked in a breath, her palms sweating, heart racing, blinking repeatedly, anxiousness filling her bones. 

Do it. 

Open the door. 

Do it. 

_Knock_. 

Something. 

Anything. 

Natia knocked. A triplet of a knock. And the voices silenced - instantly. But then footsteps approached, quickly at that. And the door swung open, giving a gust of air to the unflinching Natia on the other side.

" Heil Hitler!" she called, her voice even the slightest bit scratchy at the pain it took to even say those dreadful words.

" Get in here, enough with the bullshit." scoffed the Luetnant on the other side, yanking her right into the room as she stumbled into him completely and utterly confused. 

The Luetnant slammed the door shut before pushing her forward towards the open room. It was a room filled with books, in shelves, thrown to the ceiling, and large, glorious windows that did in fact resort to looking out upon a park, and a small desk in the center where multiple men sat around it. 

One of them being Gernstein. The Luetnant shoved Natia forward as she stumbled over her feet and quickly recovered, giving a grimace out as a signal for the Luetnant to let her go. She grumbled under her breath as she approached.

" Good heavens Frederick, what have I told you about letting other people in!" Gernstein complained, barely giving second glance to Natia - at least he hadn't picked up on the fact she stood in his presence, with a Nazi uniform on, the cover dipped right in front of her eyes just enough so she didn't have to meet the eyes of the others. 

" I've told you before, sir, we were expecting a messenger, and now we've got one." the Leutnant complained.

" I am no messenger," Natia stated in a firm, thin voice to the group, earning a few looks from some of the surrounding men, " I have been briefed by my Heerführer to report here to assist you for a few moments on knowledge of exports on Zyklon B." 

" Right," Gernstein answered, too stressed and too unwilling to even look upon her face. Stress was a brain-eater and it caused you to miss some of the most important details.

" From IG Farben, they shall arrive in Augsburg within a week." Gernstein compiled and a shaky breath escaped her. 

A very shallow, shaky and relief filled breath. 

He had _lied_ \- as in lied to the Germans. It was not going to Augsburg, the actual cargo was going to Dresden - perfect. And the truth spoke clear in his words. They would be okay, it wasn't a trap. It was anything but the gut reaction Natia had felt - he hadn't lied.

" Thank you, sir." she answered coolly and Gernstein sort of waved at her to signal he'd heard. Natia itched to sprint right back out with that info, and completely dart away but she couldn't - she couldn't come in for a word and leave again. 

" I'm sorry what did you say your name was again?" Gernstein asked looking up at her with squinty eyes.

" Georg Albrecht, sir." she answered. 

" Right, right, I remember a Georg being in here last week - we might have to reschedule, we're socked in at the moment." Gernstein answered as he pointed to the map at another one of the men who was currently helping him.

" I'm sorry to hear, sir, I just want to know how Zyklon B has been working, efficiency and such." Natia asked. Gernstein's hand froze for a moment before continuing to write. Her gaze narrowed - he was about to lie. 

" Fine, just fine." he answered, " To the best of its capabilities. The Führer is expecting more shipments by the day to be sent out amongst the camps. We're trying our best."

" Right, sir." Natia answered with a dip of the head.

" Well, Georg I'm afraid that's all the knowledge I can plug away with from my brain at the moment, but you're happy to reschedule when the chance arises." Gernstein commented, before talking quickly to another man, guiding him along the map.

" Thank you, sir." she answered and Gernstein barely acknowledge her. And with that Natia nodded to the Leutnant that had all but dragged her right into the room and confidently walked out with a growing smirk upon her lips. 

Gernstein had lied. But he had lied to the Germans - his allegiance still held a side with the Allies - and maybe they could finally stop the Holocaust in the camps - the dehumanization of simply humans - the massive killings of human beings. 

Just maybe. 

Just as quick as Natia had shut the door, she was already making her way out of the building, a trail of fire, following the stem of swelling pride. Natia pushed open the door and burst past the Nazis that stood guard and took gentle steps down the marble staircase, a grin spread on her lips. Thank God. 

It was all she could think - that he hadn't lied - to her, to Ryzshard, to Klimeck, to the Polish Resistance. Thank God. 

Natia slowly approached her vehicle and subtly slide in before cranking up the engine. Natia cast a glance back up at the building, the Führerbau, where Gernstein currently occupied the inside. He hadn't lied to the Resistance - that was enough of an allegiance for them especially in the war. 

Driving off, a strange feeling overwhelmed her suddenly. She had to face them - her siblings and the rest of their tiny group - as well as their Generals. Natia had written, scrawled in her sloppy writing on the piece of torn paper, to leave without her - she'd meet them there - there in Nazi-occupied, war-torn, Warsaw, Poland. She knew she could not return to the same location - Warsaw was her next destination. 

For it was a 10 hour drive - but she had made that trip in a straight shot more than once, through different parts of the Alps and up into Poland, across the border, through her native country and into Warsaw - too many times for her liking had she taken the trip. She wouldn't arrive until at least 8 at night and she dreaded the look upon the faces of her siblings, her friends and her Generals, it twisted her stomach into a lion. But it had to be done, or else she would've never known if it were to be a trap or not. And she did not want to end up being responsible for their deaths. 

Natia knew that she had been without food and water for too long - delirium set in at about the halfway point. And then there was the stopping to fill up on gas, then the need to pee, and then the need to actually get water and a bit of food because she would pass out. She was looking at a 9 pm arrival by then. 

Being all alone in the car wasn't as lonely as she thought it'd be, watching the dark and cold outside world past by in a sprinkling of light, as a light passing of rain pounded against the window. 

Rain reminded her of the days when her family would all be home together, her mother cooking in the kitchen, as Ryzshard sat at the table, giggling and laughing as he watched his mother turn to look at him with her beautiful face. 

Natia could still remember how full of life her eyes were, how strong, and how brave they were amongst the cowering shadows and cruelty of the world. Her mother had the most beautiful hair that would fall down her back in curled locks - she always wore an apron around the house, with a long burgundy skirt, a belt around the waist and a white, soft collared shirt - it was no surprise her students loved her. Or why her father fell for her. 

The woman with the kind smile, feeding the birds at lunch, after hours of piano practice until callouses collected on the finger tips. 

A man of his word, he studied his books and kept to his own, with his gentle blue eyes, wise smile, tousled brown hair that only made her think of Ryzshard even more. His favorite coat had been lost to flame long ago, but whenever Natia thought of him, her father, he always had the same smile on his face. The same one she had adopted when she would play piano through her mother's hand, letting the music override her system, or when she would go outside and sit on the step and her father would join her as they split one of the apples that Klimeck was trying to grow outback. 

She missed her father. 

She missed her mother. 

She missed the life that had offered her so much, but was now all but stripped away from her very being. 

There wasn't a day that went by, that Natia let her mind drift to the day her parents had been killed. 

No. 

She refused to forget what had happened, what the enemy had done, what pain they had inflicted upon her as a child. She would never forget the cruel intentions of another until they were avenged. 

Natia arrived in Warsaw, on the main outskirts of the city by 9 - by now it was like her backyard, which it already really was. Natia knew the return - the parking of the car in it's usual spot, the quick removal of the horrid Nazi uniform, the scampering through darkened and bombed out city blocks under the cover of the moon, stopping dead at the sound of Nazis, and the rushed feet of others retiring to their homes for the night. 

So Natia showing up, in her sweaty gear, hair in a rather messy low bun, hanging low on her head, and exhausted looking eyes of having not slept in a little under 48 hours finally hitting her like a truck. Plus the having to drive 13 hours from Prague to Munich and Munich to Waraw - but it was war, even if you were stuck driving in a vehicle as such. 

The Polish Underground housed plenty of people, but most importantly housed the members of the Home Army or the AK, the Armia Krajowa - where their Generals would be allocated and where her friends and siblings would ultimately be. 

This was Headquarters - an in Headquarters, everyone knew you and you knew them. 

When Natia entered the secret area, she could already feel the warmth of people huddled around tiny fires, sharing food, catching some bits of rest, and the loud chattering voices of conversation fluttering in the smoke. Others sat listening to the radio stations on the brown boxes, or read the small paper that people had managed to start up even in a time of war. 

Art was power.

As Natia moved through the crowds of people huddled amongst the fires, she continued forward, eyes peeled looking for the clothed room. It seemed every room were a clothed room no matter where you went at this point. 

The clothed room was the map room however, most map rooms Natia entered were clothed with a single linen sheet to cover it. 

Natia directed herself through the overflowing groups of members of the Underground and finally came upon a cloth that blew in the slight drafty breeze of the Underground and sighed to herself. She knew what was coming, and she knew it wouldn't be food - but at least she knew Gernstein hadn't lied. 

She could hear the voices chattering beyond the cloth and her heart picked up pace as she let her fingers curl around the fabric. It was almost shameful the way in which she entered - a tense conversation brewing like curdled coffee, voices, spitting, finger-pointing. 

A bit too much chaos for Natia. 

And then it went dead silent once she was actually amongst them inside the room and the dread sunk to her toes. Because not only was Klimeck standing there, arms crossed, eyes darkened, on fire it seemed, steam rushing out of her ears like a train, but General Tadeusz Bor-Komorowski, watching her with stern eyes as well as General Leopold Okulicki, crossed arms, guarded and clearly apprehensive, stood off to the side of the table. Brigadier General Emil August Fieldorf stood with the most calm expression out of them all, but it remained guarded - Jesus Christ. He was the most calm one too. General Antoni Chrusciel stood off towards the other side, watching her with dark eyes, a pencil twirling in his grasp - sweet Jesus they were all angry and all in their very own ways. 

She was screwed. 

Natia cleared her throat and then let out a shaky sigh.

" I killed a Nazi," she said very off-key. Chrusciel's pencil snapped. Natia averted her gaze in almost embarrassment.

" Agent Fidel there is a reason we have you amongst our ranks, do you understand that?" Okulicki asked her and Natia sighed.

" Sir, I do truly, just I had to do this one thing, but-"

" But what?! There's always a but what with you!" scoffed Okulicki. Oh God was she in big trouble.

" But I made sure we weren't in danger, on our upcoming mission in Dresden - and we're not!" Natia said with glowing eyes that were met with stern glances - even Klimeck's gaze was frozen and distant. Shit. She'd screwed up.

" I'm sorry, really, but you see? I'm fine! I'm right here-"

" Fidel!" snapped Komorowski and Natia shuttered her mouth to a close, a slight breath of air escaping her lips in the tense briefing room.

" This is the 5th of 13 infractions where you've almost died, we've given you enough chances amongst our ranks. And now you believe you can go off and be trusting enough to lead your own platoon?" Komorowski said firmly, gaze upon her own. 

" Yes." she answered. A mistake.

" I've trained since the first day this entire war has started! You don't think I'm ready?" she said stepping forward, eyes ablaze.

" That's not what I'm saying, Fidel." Komorowski stated firmly. It sounds like what you're saying.

" I'm sorry, sir?" she managed forcefully.

" Fidel, open your eyes! For the past 3 years it has been nothing but risky decision after the next with you - and it has gotten people killed! You don't think that's a cause for concern amongst your leaders?" Komorowski asked her, watching how she anxiously stopped shifting from foot to foot. Her gaze returned to his own.

" Isn't that what you wanted, sir?" she asked her tone like thin ice, her eyebrows narrowed. 

" Fidel, I didn't mean-"

" I thought this was what you want! Someone willing to risk their lives for their country - what would you rather me be - a coward?" she snapped, " Because I can pull coward right out of my ass." She regretted those words within a split-second of saying them - it were a radical response, a lashing out of anger, pure anger - she regretted it. 

" It looks like you won't be leading a platoon at all, anymore, Agent Fidel - it seems for you other orders are in the work for you instead. You're demoted." _Demoted_? Her heart sunk. Natia let out a shaky breath. Mother and Father would not be proud.

" Demoted, sir?" she asked, her voice quiet for the first time in a long time. 

" Demoted, NCO - the rank of Lieutenant doesn't seem to deem fit for a character like your own." Komorowski stated, watching her just like the rest of them. Natia suddenly met Klimeck's eyes.

" And you're going to stand there and let this happen?" Natia snapped, watching her sister remain unflinching at Natia's harsh words. 

" Natia please-" Klimeck started, but Natia cut her off.

" Right." Natia said with an unforgiving gaze, " You know at least I made sure my friends wouldn't die at the hands of the enemy it such a pitiful way. At least I cared for them. For you." 

And with that Natia flipped around quickly, pushing through the clothed door, a frown upon her features - a familiar fire following her yet again. 

It always did that. 

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H I S T O R I C A L N O T E S 

> The times I mention to each city are accurate to how long it would actually take from place to place, just for a bit of clarification, so it would make sense within the context of the story to know how long it may take to get around and things weren't just happening one after the other.

> This 'scene' essentially, is not based on real historical events, but using Gernstein's edge of being on the border of Enemy/Alliance with both sides of the war, I crafted this plotting of events from that time. 

> It is true that Gernstein was trying to get out information on the Holocaust out to the Allies, but information never made it through entirely. The Polish Resistance was actually most successful in getting information to Britain through their Polish government-in-exile stationed in Britain and were most successful in alerting the allies of it - so it was sort of a play on that, with Natia the one receiving information about it from Gernstein. 

> The Polish Home Army was called the AK or Armia Krajowa, as I will reference it as the Polish Home Army mostly, but it consisted of 8 areas, as well as a Headquarters sector throughout the city of Warsaw - Natia and her small group are based in Headquarters. (As well as being apart of the Underground) 

> General Tadeusz Bor-Komorowski, General Leopold Okulicki, Brigadier General Emil August Fieldorf, General Antoni Chrusciel were just a select few of some of the leaders of this Polish Resistance - there were many others, but these were some of the ones I decided to showcase in this book. 

> Ranks in their sort of 'military' were similar to how most ranked - with NCOs, Lieutenants, Generals and so on - this includes Natia's demotion from Lieutenant to NCO - but instead of Lieutenant, she just went by Agent as Agent still holds power for her like fellow Polish SOE members. 

A / N 

_can you say reckless and impulsive? LOL that's natia for ya! this chapter i felt is what really delved into her character, seeing her in another undercover situation, one she was not supposed to go on and ultimately suffering the consequences - because let's be real, she could've gotten killed for what she had done if discovered, and she was lucky she wasn't killed upon arrival back to warsaw. and the consequences are ones she deserve no matter how upsetting for her, simply because that's just life and i hope to accurately portray that her impulsive decisions will have consequences in many ways - definitely one of my favorite technical chapters!! thank you so much for reading and look out for next's week chapter!! <3_


	8. The Numbing of the Mind

" Numbing the pain for a while will make it worse when you finally feel it."

_\- Albus Dumbledore_

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**_Warsaw, Poland - Headquarters for AK/Polish Home Army_ **

**_April 23rd, 1944_ **

_**2100** _

Natia had retreated outside - she couldn't take the suffocation of the disappointment of her leaders, their faces, their eyes, all of it. It was already enough disappointment when you tried your hardest and still weren't enough. 

Natia sat on a long stone, up against a wall, staring up towards the night sky, twinkling with starlight. Nazis barely made way down this alley anymore - there was a constant smell of death - fair too disgusting for their posh life. 

The Nazis. 

Natia was numb to the stench. Demoted, tired, hungry, numb, what other emotion would she end up adding to her long, ongoing list of feelings that she was slowly retiring to her _'I Have Felt This Too Much'._

" Nat." In an instance, her P-38 glistened under the moonlight, aimed straight at the presence at her side. Her eyes didn't even move up towards the source. 

Only the shiny business end of the weapon lay directed towards the source.

" Jesus Christ, you have got to stop doing that." the voice complained and Natia slowly let her eyes move up to see Dwad there. 

" If I did I'd be dead." she answered, slowly turning her frozen gaze back towards it's past motive, transfixed yet again on the bombed out store front where she had once gotten her favorite pair of shoes from - they too had been lost to war.

" Enough with the glum theatrics, what happened back there?" Dwad asked her, slowly letting himself sit down beside her. Natia clenched her jaw.

" Ask Klimeck." Natia said, " Seems she's been on board with it for 3 years." Dwad gave her a look, she could see it from the corner of her eye.

" What the hell are you talking about?" he asked her, watching her, " C'mon, I've known you since you were in diapers - I _CHANGED_ your diapers. You can tell me." 

" I got demoted." she said through gritted teeth," Demoted, down to NCO, because I was deemed too reckless for a group of mere rebels. How ridiculous does that sound to you?" Dwad was quiet.

" Listen, if you came out here to lecture me, I have it memorized already, so you can head back, eat your fill and get some rest. Really I'm fine." Natia said, letting out a shaky sigh. 

" Nat, c'mon, you know I'm not like that." Dwad said and Natia smirked and shook her head.

" Yeah, well Dwad, people change." she snapped, her angry eyes staring into his own, " Can't people just see I'm trying? That I'm literally throwing myself for slaughter and in the end all I get is demoted, it's bullshit." 

" Natia, look at me." Dwad said firmly and Natia set her gaze on him. His brown eyes watched her, the few lines of stress making an appearance when he narrowed them - war did that.

" Who cares if you got demoted, you might've just saved all our asses by doing what you just did - but they're leaders, they have a right to demote someone who might put their soldiers in danger, you know that." Dwad told her and Natia let out a sigh, looking from his gaze and nodding. 

" It's just...I want to fight." Natia said.

" And you get to fight." Dwad told her.

" Not in the way I want." she said, glancing at him. Dwad sighed.

" You're not completely kicked out now, remember that. Just demoted." Dwad told her and Natia sighed.

" Still sucks." she murmured. Dwad chuckled quietly.

" Yeah, the world's not exactly sunshine and rainbows right?" Dwad said with a smirk looking towards her and Natia let a small chuckle past her lips.

" Yeah, you said it." she said, fingers fumbling past one another during the process," You said it." 

Dwad was convincing enough to bring Natia back inside for a bit of food - after her cumbersome drive throughout the day, Dwad argued that food was more important than trying to convince oneself back into the ranks of Lieutenant - at least for the time being. 

So there she sat, nibbling on the lukewarm potatoes that Kaja had conjured up and heated up over the fire - fires couldn't last for long in the Underground. Smokes gassed people out and too much of it was an easy trail for Nazis to follow - gullible rats. 

The conversation of Ryzshard and Cezar, the two cackling baboons who merely added into the chuckles of one another, was enough to make Natia want to send fireworks through her brain. But she did have some self-control. 

They were 18 and 19 years of age - a little time to actually be your age never harmed anyone. Natia's gaze remained on the burning fire, the sweltering spot of heat that reminded Natia of when she had landed in Warsaw on the night of February 16th, 1941. 

Landing as in, after an hour of walking, finally saw her home again for the first time in a year and a half - a reluctance to training in the SOE and the Cichociemni had brought her back home. 

Sure it was a rather self-centered reluctance, putting her in the lowest of her class - and then a horrifying push that propelled her to the top, but Natia was now thankful for the training year and a half in England had provided - she'd become an Agent of Churchill's Secret Army as well as a Polish Paratrooper apart of the Silent and Unseen - the Cichociemni. 

One of the proudest moments in her wartime career. 

The Polish Home Army was all she had now. 

The SOE and Agent Mortem were in the past, even if her mind functioned like it were still Agent Mortem who ran her around like she were his little agent. She ignored it now, no matter how monstrous it grew. She belonged to no one.

" Nat!" a voice called and Natia snapped her head up, eyes narrowed meeting Felicjan's whose own watched her from across the fire.

" Um, sorry..." she mumbled, clearing her throat, " what?" Felicjan chuckled.

" Your fearless mission to Munich in the early hours of morning," Felicjan said, leaning back, popping one of the smaller potatoes into his mouth, a brooding smirk on his pink lips, " and demoted 10 hours later and I thought you couldn't get anymore mysterious in your motives." Natia smirked and shook her head.

" Yeah, well the Higher-Ups don't believe in such," and Angelika sent her look.

" Klimeck, too?" Angelika asked and Ryzshard looked up from his meal.

" Yeah," Natia answered with a nod, " I call it airing on the side of caution, they call it recklessness."

" It seems they mean the same thing in your mind." countered Ryzshard and Natia launched a potato at his head as Ryzshard let out a boyish chuckle, Cezar snickering from beside him in an even more immature manner.

" Oh shove off Ry, I didn't see your ass out at 5 in the morning, driving into the birthplace of Nazism, dressed as a Nazi yourself," Angelika said proudly, " if anything I wish I had gotten to go, see how these stuck up, pricks act amongst one another."

" English, Angelika, please." Ryzshard said and both Natia and Angelika glared at him. 

" How did it go though?" Kaja asked leaning forward as Felicjan sent a nod her way.

" Yeah, care to, dare I say, spill the beans?" Felicjan said and Kaja sent him a slightly annoyed look.

" Spill the broccoli, I don't know," Felicjan muttered shaking his head as if offended. Natia smirked.

" Well, my main goal was to make sure Gernstein wasn't lying and he's not - and that's all that matters." Natia said quickly. At the end of the day, she didn't have to put a bullet in someone's head. 

" Oh come on, Nat, where's the frantic racing through the halls, the bullets firing around your head, you know stuff like that?" Felicjan asked as Kaja sent him another look.

" Maybe she doesn't need to fight like you do, recklessness can come out in different ways." Kaja told him quietly as Felicjan made a face.

" I dropped out of school at 12, what do you expect from me?" Felicjan asked, sitting with a smirk.

" A bit of dignity, but 4 years with you and nothing's changed." Zofia said slumping over with the radio in hand, slamming it to the ground, " They're gathering more information on the sight in Dresden, Franciszek's doing translations and Dwad's up with Intelligence, and I think they might be searching for one of us next - coordinates are on the clock." 

" Zofia, one of the most pleasurable I've had the pleasure of interacting with." Felicjan said and Zofia smirked sarcastically.

" I'm sure," she said before slumping beside him, " so...." Zofia's gaze turned upon Natia.

" Demoted, huh?"

" Is this the only thing that has happened today, I mean you had a 7 hour drive with the Three Musketeers." Natia countered, looking at Felicjan, Cezar and Ryzshard, who sat with similar smirks on each of their own faces, " Demoted, so what? It's done for, I'm already used to it. And plus by the time I get back in battle again, I won't think anything of it." Zofia gave her a suddenly soft and sad smile.

" You've worked hard for the spot, I think it's bullshit." Zofia said as Angelika snapped her fingers.

" I've been saying it since news wandered in." Angelika said. 

" Your just pissed because Komo lost his shit on you, nothing unusual of the sort." Felicjan countered and Natia sent him an unwavering look and he backed off.

" Hey Marowski, we need you now, you too Wozniak." a voice called running up to the group and they turned to see it was one of the head correspondents the group never failed to work with and got wonderfully sarcastic complaints out of when times lingered by. 

2nd Lieutenant Stefan Jagiello - one of the top ciphers in the Polish Resistance whose mind was truly incredible in its ways - codebreaking? 

He was on it. 

Intelligence? 

The information was in his pocket. 

Sneaking you into a Nazi Party? 

He had the date set for months. 

The guy was wise beyond his years - it wasn't a wonder that Zofia did get frustrated in his presence, when she took his compliments with an anger that bubbled like boiling water. Zofia was well for one word - competitive - especially when it came to her radio. They were on the middle of war and she was focused on who had the better signal. 

A handsome young Lieutenant and her radio? 

Yeah, there was plenty to get frustrated over - it was quite like a comedy to watch.

" You need me?" Zofia called to him as Felicjan stood with a grumbling sigh and Kaja sent him a soft look of complete utter disappointment - and you know when she looked at you that way she truly was disappointed. It was Felicjan though, what did you expect. Stefan glanced at her. 

" You keep scratching away at that radio, Mazur." he called back.

" Real funny!" she snapped back but then grumbled, " Scratch away at that radio, oh what I'd give to slap him right across that face." Angelika chuckled from beside Natia as Cezar leaned forward with a curious look in his eye.

" I'm not surprised they don't need ya, you know Zofia." he said and Zofia sent him a confused glance.

" Continue." she said. Cezar cleared his throat and glanced at Ryzshard who slowly popped another potato into his mouth, watching equally as curious as if he were a child, watching a film for the first time. 

" Now, don't attack me for this next statement, I don't believe it for one second, but I know those leaders up there got something say about it, you're an 18 year old girl, he's a 24 year old man. age before beauty." Cezar said. Natia smirked.

" You calling me prettier than him," Zofia said with a winning smirk and Cezar chuckled.

" C'mon do you see the guy, if anything he could do with an extra hair cut every once in a while." Cezar said as Zofia snickered.

" Yeah, I always knew you to somehow have my back even after all the childish jokes you and Ry seem to congregate about amongst yourselves, you know for funsies." Zofia said, maybe even the slightest sarcastic.

" Woo! Woo! Here comes the train for fucking Sarcasm City, can we please not run over this discussion again?" Angelika complained leaning forward. Cezar gave her a look.

" Alright it was not a brilliant way of getting the job done or even merely explaining my point, but we got there, that's all that matters." Cezar confirmed.

" You said that about the Alps too and I was trapped with you on the side of a mountain for a week," Angelika claimed sitting forward, " all because you worried about the objective and not the journey, young Cezar Iskra." 

" All right Nowak, Jesus Christ, seems Natia is the only one who doesn't want to attack me for my lack-luster dumbassery." Cezar said.

" That's not a word." Natia said quietly and the group was left in snickers.

" And there it is." Ryzshard said, " You weren't getting out of this one, asshole." Cezar rolled his eyes.

" Damn right." Natia said and the group chuckled. 

A laughing moment was brief in a world like this, but even then there wasn't much to laugh about unless it was in the face of Death. 

Natia couldn't quite remember the last time she had felt happy. 

Happiness was such a difficult concept to grasp, but as a young child, it felt like it hadn't been. She had simply been that, just a child, filled with youthful innocence, someone who had yet to understand the cruelty of the world, good from evil, happiness from sadness. She were simply just a child. 

Now she was a mere war-machine, feeding off anything the war gave her and only growing more machine and less human. 

But she remembered being a young child, dancing with her father, a genuine smile on her face, or helping her mother cook pierogis on the stove that looked out onto the flower garden as the sun shone brightly down upon it in the early afternoon, or even playing card games with Ryzshard and Klimeck after school as some music traveled from the little radio in the corner of their home. 

She remembered happiness - clear as day. She remembered sitting by her mother's side, fingers gliding over the piano keys, as the tunes of Mozart spread from her mind to the keys, a warmth filling her heart. Her mother had been the one to believe in her - all the scales, the hours practicing, everything. It was her mother who had believed in her. A piano had always been in the home. 

Years after their little home in Wola had been destroyed - Natia went to look for that bout of happiness, that wooden piano - _it was gone_. 

But the war had taken everything, happiness included from her, stripped like a gun, and was left with the bare essentials of the human being - a mind and a mouth, barely a personality, yet a will to fight. That had never been stripped. 

Natia held the picture of her parents within her grasp, her eyes slowly walking over their faces, trying to remember the feeling of their presence in front of her own. She could never remember, there were too many other horrible memories that now overpowered all feelings that were simply just good. The war had done that. 

Natia hated that she couldn't remember the feeling of them there with her - maybe some day she would, when the war was over, when there was no war to think about and she was far away from this place. 

Natia slowly shut her eyes - she could remember the very last day they had been alive though. 

It was one of the only memories of her parents that woke her up in fits of nightmares, sweating, heart racing, her palms slicked in perspiration, eyes wide in the pitch black. It happened too often and it still got to her even this day, still almost 5 years later and she was letting it nestle into her like a disease. 

Natia remembered where she had been standing the minute the Nazis burst through the door. The gunshots, the blood, the rushed stumbling through the bullet covered kitchen, her face pale as a ghost, hiding in a closet for hours on end, hearing the quiet cries of Ryzshard beside her. 

Natia's eyes burst open and she sucked in a shaky breath, glancing around for a fleeting moment, her heart was racing in the darkness lit by Zofia's candle. 

Natia knew why her parents had been killed - the Nazis had tried to make the reason hidden amongst the Polish citizens of cities and towns, but it was obvious because of their deep-set hatred of the Poles and of their culture. 

Her parents had been cultural elites - Intelligentsia - Nazis didn't like that nor did they want their culture spreading. 

That already had set a flame inside Natia's heart. 

They even had the nerve to have her parents' names on a list for two years before the war had even started. The Special Prosecution Book of Poland. It made her stomach turn. 

Natia's eyes focused on that of her parents in front of her in the photo again. Her father would always take her hands and hold them in his own and then softly press a kiss to each palm - he'd tell her that the kiss on the left palm was for happiness and the other was for love. 

5 years since those gentle kisses on the palm and both those things were gone. 

Natia couldn't take it anymore and softly folded the photo and shoved it back into her pocket, before sitting motionless in the dim morning light. Her night had been fitful and sleepless, but she hadn't expected anything else - sleep felt nonexistent to her at this point and she was running off the pure adrenaline in her mind. 

But she never slept well anymore - waking up, sweating, heart racing, staring at the ceiling, sleep was thrown on the back burner - there were far too many unspoken words, and unhinging terrors from her past that roamed through her brain. 

Her eyes trailed down to her calloused hands, rough in texture, years of handling a weapon and racing through many various buildings where her hands usually pressed to the side more times than wanted, her hands had become rougher. They ached sometimes. Maybe they missed the feeling of another pair of hands there as well. She would never know - maybe she'd be dead before then. 

They used to ache from too much piano playing, now they ached of shooting a weapon at the near-dead.

" Hey, Flip!" a voice called and within moments Felicjan was in the doorway, a wide smirk on his face, eyes aglow. Natia sat up a bit and met his gaze. 

" We're on the move, it's a go." he said and Natia smirked at him. Dresden. Natia hopped up and immediately followed out after him, meeting Felicjan's face paced walking and his longer legged gate.

" Enlighten me." she said and Felicjan smirked.

" Francis managed to get exact coordinates on location, exact numbers. Seems your Jerry friend has a few other connections in his little group." Felicjan said and Natia smirked at him.

" Quite right, Marowski, he has quite a few. But keeping tabs on him never led me in the wrong direction now has it?" she said and Felicjan snickered.

" Yeah you Flip kids are crazy, but how else would we get anything in here done. Klimeck's setting up a briefing now." Felicjan said and Natia sent him a look.

" We're on the move in a few hours, and I know, I know, I know, I know, it's 6 am, and there's barely enough visibility to see 5 steps in front of you but preparations are being sent out, as well as information to prepare the Underground." Felicjan said. 

The Underground - codename for their secret cities and towns amongst that of bombed out homes for the people they help in the middle of nowhere - are really in places like Czechslovakia, Austria, and regions of Poland on the outer edges that were hidden amongst the forest. 

Klimeck had personally handpicked members of the Polish Home Army to set out and work on each and every town, taking in supplies and secret shipment convoyed there. They had been successful in the past, and Natia knew they could be successful now. 

The constant quick pace of the Polish Home Army was their trademark, it was why they were as successful as they were and one of the best out of many Nazi-occupied countries. They had acted upon the first day they were invaded, and each and every day following they acted upon it. They would fight for their country until the death. 

It also helped that they had some of the most intelligent members of the Home Army working on some of the toughest spits of information in decoding, coordination, planning and regulation. They were fantastic at their job. 

Each day brought upon a new duty for that of Poland and its citizens. And for years they had been willing to fight and fight and fight, and now they still were willing to fight until they practically were in shambles upon the ground - they'd never let that be taken from them. Their will, their fight, their strength in numbers of ordinary people. It was a feat not many countries had approached. 

Poland was proud though, especially Warsaw. 

Natia and Felicjan approached where Franciszek still sat at his radio, speaking in rushed French, tripping up over his Polish at the same time as he spoke. Klimeck leaned beside him, pointing to spots on the paper at the same time, going over coordinates. 

The second Klimeck noticed the two approach she gave a quick nod before continuing to speak to Franciszek. Then Franciszek slammed down the phone and quickly jotted something down. Klimeck leaned back with a satisfied sigh before looking up at the two.

" Hey," she said," we just got off with the French Resistance - they've agreed to send us aid." she explained, her eyes meeting Natia's for a fleeting moment, which remained passive and cold, a gate blocked up between her and her sister, icy tension radiating between the two. 

Klimeck was Natia's sister, but Klimeck was also one of Natia's leaders, and that's where a barrier would be set almost always. 

Sometimes there was duty before family - it sucked.

" Really?" Felicjan asked, " Wow, never knew you two could be that convincing."

" Don't get ahead of yourself Marowski, it's called using your words." Klimeck muttered with a slight glare before picking up the piece of paper, " They have their own areas they can take some of the people if need be, it is double the cargo and we don't want to overload the towns quite yet, de Gaulle's been rather cooperative in his efforts with us. He's willing to give as much aid as he can."

" Yeah, even through a scratchy radio," muttered Franciszek, as he placed a period on his sentence, " you can run that up to Komo if you please, Klimeck, they're waiting on first movement from us." 

" Right," Klimeck said, carefully pulling the paper into her hands and checking over it, " Natia do you want to come with me?" Natia's gaze slowly turned upwards to meet her sisters, as if they were children again and Klimeck had just taken a toy from her hands to play with. This time it was her Lieutenant rank.

" Sure," Natia answered, a chilled aura radiating throughout the room at this point, it wasn't a nice feeling to have. 

Natia tended to bring this where ever she went now - it was the ice in her hand oozing out. Klimeck watched her and stiffly nodded before Natia joined her sister at her side and the two walked away, in time with one another, out of the stifling room leaving the two men utterly confused.

" Something going on there?" Franciszek asked Felicjan who watched curiously out the door as they rounded the corner and were soon out of sight.

" Klimeck was there when Nat was demoted," Felicjan told him, a sad frown upon his face," pretty sure that has everything to do with it." Franciszek pulled a face and then glanced back to where the women had disappeared around the corner up ahead.

" It definitely does." he said softly with an even sadder frown.

｡↷ ✧*̥₊˚‧☆ﾐ

H I S T O R I C A L N O T E S 

> It is true that the Cichociemni's (Polish Paratroopers) return to Warsaw, Poland was their jump into Warsaw on night of February 16th, 1941, where in the context of the story, Natia was able to return with her siblings to Warsaw - in real life, many of the Cichociemni ended up becoming members of the Polish Home Army just like what Natia and her siblings end up doing!

> 2nd Lieutenant Stefan Jagiello was a real member of the Polish Resistance, working with the AK (Armia Krajowa) as one of the top ciphers in Organization + Operations where many of his tasks were where he were he was to operate with AK Intelligence. He did things like maintain personnel records with real and codes names as well as military ranks. Operational security, guidelines, instructions on underground tactics, technology and safe houses. Preparation of couriers and all military communication with bases in Poland.

As you can see, many of the things mentioned that Jagiello does is how we've seen a majority of the fic start off - with this perceiving cargo load that the group has to obtain, with underground tactics and communications with bases, and their military rankings throughout, including Natia's demotion from Lieutenant to now a perceived NCO. 

> With what I could gather from research, there were a perceived 185 Poles in the Maquis - the French Resistance, which were able to be on the outside. It's not clear whether they were able to send in information back to the Polish Resistance to Warsaw, but I wanted to try it out and see where these two groups could connect as Resistance groups in Nazi-occupied Germany. 

In the next few chapters, you'll see where I try to incorporate them n a bit and show how simply resistance groups worked together in their own ways just in general! 

A / N 

_hey! hey!! another chapter and one where i felt we get into natia's mind even more. her mind's constantly stressed and conflicted and emotionally pressured and it's even more pressured especially in the middle of war and we really see this inner conflict within herself. we're getting closer to the warsaw uprising as well as meeting the boys, which of course comes after the uprising, but i am so excited to get this story on a roll even more so than it already is! thank you all! <3_


	9. All Part of the Experience

" Good decisions come from experience, and experience comes from bad decisions."

_\- Unknown_

｡↷ ✧*̥₊˚‧☆ﾐ **  
**

**Warsaw, Poland - Headquarters for AK/Polish Home Army**

**April 24th, 1944**

**0800**

" You watched me stand there and get humiliated, Klimeck!" Natia said in a low, rushed snap, her voice shallow, " And then demoted! Do they even realize I was ensuring all of our lives and not running straight through the fire?"

" I thought you liked running straight through the fire, Natia." Klimeck said cooly and Natia grumbled.  
  
" I like to do that _alone_ , not when it puts the entirety of the group in danger." Natia said back, her eyes meeting Klimeck's who met her own out of the corner of her eye.

" It still doesn't give you any right to just leave in the middle of the night and drive to Munich _alone_ , you could've been killed." Klimeck snapped back.

" Good!" Natia yelled, stopping and looking at Klimeck, " So what if I had been killed, it wouldn't make a single difference in this war, at least I would've known that the mission could've successfully gone on resulting in less deaths, at least less deaths than my own!" Klimeck watched Natia with wide, fear-struck eyes.

" Natia...." Klimeck whispered, her voice barely streaming out," I didn't mean that I-" Natia stopped her, by holding up a hand.

" Just because mom and dad aren't here doesn't mean you have to fill that role. I'm 23 and can take care of myself, I'm fine." Natia snapped, her eyes like a dragons - for a second Klimeck didn't see her sister; Klimeck saw a demon, trapping the entirety of her baby sister in its clasps and not letting go. 

Klimeck knew Natia wasn't the young girl she was once - a smile on her lips, laughs in their ears, the singing voice of an angel at school in choir, the graceful dancing of her fingertips on the piano, any of it. It was nothing more than simply just that - a war machine. 

A demon taking her soul.

" If mom and dad were here they'd want me to take care of you, it's all I've ever tried to do for you and for Ryzshard." Klimeck snapped. Natia's heart felt colder than normal. 

Usually any discussion of their parents was on the anniversary of their deaths, and never again until a year later when it rolled around right into their laps again. Outside of their anniversary, it was like it was sin to even discuss the deaths of their parents. It felt like such a sin right now. 

Natia wasn't fighting Klimeck - Natia hated when she fought against Klimeck or Ryzshard - it was simply Klimeck as a leader, holding a title higher than Natia and being babied around. And Natia was no child - the innocence left once she turned 18 and after her parents had been murdered in hindsight. 

That was when all innocence had been stripped and lost from her - seeing the ones who loved you most, ripped from your very touch. 

Natia shut her eyes and put a hand to her head. She knew Klimeck was right, she had always been the parent figure ever since the death of their parents - and she never failed to protect them - but sometimes the lion burst out of its cage when tempted.

" Nat, I love you, you're my little sister.....I'd never want you hurt." Klimeck said softly, watching Natia's eyes flick up to her own. 

Natia bit her tongue, right on the familiar spot where she had faked pulmonary tuberculosis to get out of one of the hundreds of near-death situations she had been amongst. It became the spot she not returned to bite back on when worry filled her system and nerves overtook her body like goosebumps. 

Near-death was something Klimeck didn't take a trip towards too often - her siblings tended to do so more often than not. She had a right to worry.

" I have the right to worry about you, Nat, you know that. Sisters....we just, do that." Natia knew, even in the strained voice of Klimeck's that this was upsetting, because for a split second, Natia felt her heart truly ache at the pain in her sister's voice and the overwhelming hair of emotions that touched her very soul. 

" I know." Natia whispered softly, her voice the quietest it had ever been, letting her brown eyes meet Klimeck's own blue eyes for a second. Klimeck watched her.

" I just....I don't want you dead because of something I just threw out there for you to do." Klimeck said, " I've never wanted any of us to be responsible if anyone died, I just....the guilt, all of it would be too much." Natia nodded, sucking in a shaky breath. She knew exactly what Klimeck meant - and it was why being in such a high position of authority was as horrible as it was sometimes.   
  
" I didn't mean to worry you," Natia whispered softly, watching Klimeck's eyes which looked exactly like her mother's, and Klimeck nodded, softly placing a hand on Natia's shoulder, a gentle touch which reminded Natia of home. 

Klimeck had always embodied their mother - beautiful blue eyes, long hair, in locks of honey hold, and enough care and grace to give to any soul.

" I know, and I'm sorry about your demotion." Klimeck said, and Natia knew it meant for far much more than that. 

If Klimeck showed even a snap of weakness in front of the various members of the Polish Home Army, who were their leaders, she'd be looked down upon in too many horrible ways - for being a woman and showing signs of vulnerability. A woman amongst a group of men who lead a group of mere citizens. That should be the least of their worries that Klimeck's a woman. And Natia never hesitated to speak her mind in the middle of a thought - Klimeck always got the memo.

" I don't want to talk about it." Natia said quietly. Klimeck watched her. Natia was already one step ahead - the demotion was behind her. 

" They shouldn't have to even bother that you are a woman in their ranks. You earned that spot fair and square, if anything they should look upon you as if you are a human being, Klimeck." Natia whispered harshly in the dark hallway, lit by a few lanterns, " It pisses me off." Klimeck softly squeezed her shoulder.

" I know, but I can handle myself, you know this." Klimeck said, " As you said, I did get up there for a reason, there's a reason I'm that high up." Natia smiled softly, a rather genuine one compared to the forced grimaces that somehow passed regularly as a smile. 

" At least it wasn't sheer dumb luck like others that managed." Natia said to her and Klimeck smirked.

" Yeah, I'd say they just didn't know what to do with a woman who used her brain." Klimeck said and Natia laughed lightly. Klimeck smiled softly at Natia.

" Let's go turn this thing in and see how this goes, shall we?" Klimeck asked Natia and Natia nodded.

" Let's." she said, before the two women turned and moved off towards the large briefing room, arms holding each other close in the dim hallway, hopefully - finally - able to leave that dark part, behind and for good.

They had a war to fight.

*~*~*~*~*~*

" Alright!" Klimeck called over the group, as the rushed voices and whispers softly died down and turned their attention to the blonde haired woman in front of them. 

Klimeck wore her own stripped and slightly tattered Nazi field wear, similar to Natia's, her arm band though tightly wrapped around her bicep, a proud look upon her face, yet serious once you touched the eyes - the eyes always gave away what merely one person could be feeling. 

Sat in the back, pulling a cigarette up to her lips every so often, to watch it cloud up towards the ceiling, Natia watched her sister up on the large staging area where leaders before her had stood to begin operations as such. 

Too many burdened feet had made way across the stage before, now it was Klimeck's turn. 

Ryzshard was beside Natia, knee shaking up and down the entire time, eyes alert, forward, focused. The most focused he'd been in a while - but he hated plans, he'd never been one to dwindle on a plan for a while and act - for him it was more like act and see if you get killed or not. Ryzshard liked to say it was all part of the experience. 

Whatever Ry.

" After a brief discussion, I'd like to go over the plans of Dresden with you that currently sit on the table." Klimeck announced, her voice calm, authoritative, confident in where her words were taking her. 

" Dresdon is the capital of the East Germany state of Saxony - it's on the Eastern fore-front of the war. Currently as we speak, a train, carrying the cargo of Zyklon B from IG Farben in Frankfurt, Germany is on its way to Dresden. It's also carrying 2x's the number of people originally set in numbers for who it would be carrying." Klimeck explained, her eyes meeting Cezar's from across the room.

" Iskra," she called, placing her hands behind her back and slowly moving across the stage with a smirk on her features - this was something they'd all done many times before, now it was purely just fun to do - to watch the Nazis writhe underneath the Polish clasp. It brought pure and utter joy to watch their stupid little plans go right down the drain. 

It was like when Natia first heard a story from Komorowski himself how they had tried to kill Hitler in October of 1939 - oh how fast the war would've ended if that had been the case. It was joyful to see the Nazis suffer.

" How many of your baratol explosives have you managed for this operation?" Klimeck asked the man. Cezar sat up and cleared his throat before he stood to his feet, a smirk on his face, dark brown hair like the vines that had covered his home once, mused up upon his head. 

" I have 35 ready and waiting." he said back and Klimeck smirked.

" Right you do," she said, " you will need to bring all 35, do you understand me? We're not letting this train get away this time." 

" Yes, ma'am." Cezar said a smirk on his own face, before he moved to sitting down beside Ryzshard again who smirked. 

To say Cezar was an expert on making bombs and explosives was an understatement - as a child he always messed with anything he could get his hands on so when science and exploding things were put together and explosions became an option, he was quick to take it up and quickly became a genius in the field. He was the resident bomb maker by this point.

" Filipski." Klimeck called and Ryzshard slowly stood, a rye smirk on his lips," Coordinated defense updates?"

" All outfits ready and entailed, up to speed as usual, and might I just add, all are healthy and willing." Ryzshard said and Klimeck clapped her hands together.

" Good, you'll be head set on keeping a base of fire in the direction towards the town - incase a Nazi were willing enough to alert their presence on the sound of their lovely tracks blowing up." she said with a chuckle, making the entire room chuckle - even Natia had to chuckle. It was quite the joy to watch.

Klimeck moved through each and every important person in the room for updates on different parts of the operation before stopping in the center of the staging area and clearing her throat.

" You all know what this means for a country like Poland. For the Commonwealth of Poland - our great nation deterred by war and hatred by the inhumane Nazis. If you ever hear anything through this war, know that every bit of resistance against a force of evil like their own makes a difference - it may not feel like it but with one bullet shot versus a thousand, you can save more lives than one." Klimeck called triumphantly. That got some cheers and claps from it.

" For the Commonwealth of Poland!" she yelled, her voice enough inspiration to insight an entire room to call out in celebratory war cries it seemed, to go after the Nazis, doing anything to mess them up and to get the Allies closer to their nation. 

Anything to vanquish a war such as this.

" For the Commonwealth of Poland!" the entire group called back, fists raised, pumping up into the air, echoing off the walls of the Underground as cheers and whistles were let out in excitement.

" Prepare your soldiers, gather your gear, we're on the move in an hour." Klimeck called, before nodding and turning. Natia couldn't help but clap as loud as she could, cigarette playing on her finger. Natia turned to look over at Ryzshard who was grinning wildly, hair like a lions, eyes wide and filled with anticipation.

" What's that look for?" she asked him.

" I have no fucking idea, all I know is we got a war to win." Ryzshard said and Natia snickered.

" That's right we do," she said and Ryzshard plucked the cigarette from her fingers and let himself take in a puff, before shoving it back into her fingers.

" Let's get this show on the road," he said and then quickly stood and moved out with the vast pack of Resistance Fighters, hungry for any move possible they could take against the Nazis - anything at all was a win for Poland and their citizens - it showed they were still alive - even after 5 years, they were still breathing. 

Angelika joined Natia by her side as the two continued sharing the last bit of her cigarette to the butt before they reached where the groups general gear always laid out, ready and waiting. Angelika looked towards Natia with a grin.

" We deserve a drink after this," Angelika said and Natia snickered quietly as she glanced up towards her friend.

" I agree." Natia said, as Angelika smirked, " Strongest you have." Angelika snickered. If Angelika took pride in anything, she could have the strongest alcoholic beverage in a matter of seconds - and she never was one to disappoint.

" Yeah, well you know." Angelika said, " A few drinks never hurt anyone and after this bullshit, I'll need it to rid myself of the idiocies of this stupid war." Natia chuckled. 

Angelika Nowak fashionably adorned a smirk, wild brown hair that lay in twisted braids almost always, a swagger in her step, and a priding look in her eyes - she liked to joke quite a lot as well, which balanced Dwad's grandfather behavior when on scouting runs. It was quite funny.

" The fact I'm excited says a lot," Angelika said as Dwad came up beside her and Natia chuckling.

" Nowak excited for a scouting mission for once, I'm impressed. You're rubbing off on her, Nat." Dwad said and the duo of women chuckled together as Dwad bent down to pull on his field cap.

" You're still wearing that dumb thing? I've told you about a hundred times that I can sew it right back up and make it look, like, you know, a field cap." Angelika told him crossing her arms. Dwad rolled his eyes.

" And I've told you, it is too far gone for that." he said to her in response as Angelika rolled her eyes, making Natia smirk softly. 

They were quite the duo of scouts, sent out early before the rest, to set positions and translate back to Zofia through radio signal. It all worked very systemically, and it was one of the main reasons the group accomplished what they could. 

Natia continued to tune out their natural wave of bickering, as she slowly bent down to her gear. Her Blyskawica sat where she normally placed it, propped against the side of her pillow, the old and slightly rusted out P-38 within her holster. 

The uniform was its fitted, comfortable self against her body, and her hair, though falling out of the bun was pulled from her face at least, and gave her the ability to really just get down to work and focus. The operation could take all day and night for all they knew and with a 2x's cargo of even more people and Zyklon B shipment on the rise, this could get out of hand quicker than they wanted. 

Natia wouldn't allow that to happen. 

It was all about the eye of the storm, the calm in the chaos, the focused in the distressed. 

Natia slightly glanced back over her shoulder and watched as people continued moving around, running to their areas where gear was set, making last minute preparations, smoking a last cigarette, anything to keep the jitters from their systems. 

Natia reached forward to grab ahold of the tiny map she never failed to carry around and for a moment, her whole body tensed up and froze, spine tingling goosebumps shooting up her arms, and down the entire surface of her body, until suddenly she wasn't mentally here anymore.

She was that 18 year old girl, crouched over the photo of her parents inside of their home, in bombed out Warsaw, Poland in 1939, holding the last photo she would ever have of them in her dirt covered hands, tears streaking down her dirty face, feet soaked with water and whatever other substances she had trampled through in the coming days, hair, greasy and sweaty, sticking to her head.

But she was not that little girl anymore, constrained to her emotions and holding in everything she felt, feeling so lost, alone and scared of the world. It was possible she was still frightened of the true horror the world possessed just not as much as 18 year old Natia. 

18 year old Natia had feared the world. 

Now 23 year old Natia was numb to it all, numb to the fear, the horror, the terrors such a world could hold. 

A lame excuse that the war was slowly inhaling her, daintily, bit by bit. 

Then Natia was back - the loud noise, Angelika and Dwad's bickering, the footsteps, the rummaging through bags, Ryzshard's horrible singing voice, singing _Poland Is Not Yet Lost_ at the top of his lungs, a bouncing ball from one of the younger children, banging over and over, again and again against the concrete walls of the Underground - it was like a symphony of chaos - too many things going on at once, not enough areas to even focus a concentration on - pure chaos. 

War was chaos. 

And suddenly, she heard bullets and gunshots just as she had back in 1939, spraying the kitchen as if it were art, speckling every inch of the home, the word intelligentsia rolling repeatedly off their tongues like poison. In Warsaw, Poland - it had been poison - and you could never be safe from it - it killed instantly. 

Natia's eyes suddenly opened, she didn't even know they had been closed in the first place, and she let out a shaky gasp of breath in the uncentered chaos. She took a quick glance to make sure that no one had seen her freeze up, and then slowly, with ever-so-slightly shaking hands, pulled the submachine gun to her shoulder and patted where the P-38 would lie. It was still there. 

Natia then stood and quickly moved from the voices and the chaos, attempting to push her way out of the Underground and somewhere else. Anywhere but here, where each and every nagging thing nestled like a hornet in its nest, right into her head. 

Natia moved past the groups of people that were amongst those who had joined up in the group of Resistance Fighters of Poland, Poland's Army - it's Home Army. 

She noticed Anna Zakzewska one of their younger members - she used to be in the company of one of their officers Witold Pilecki, but after his daring sacrifice to one of the horrid camps, she had resumed his spot in a way, taking up his position as if she were him. Anna worked to help a little boy, pull on his Kotwica around the bicep. 

Anna gave him a gentle smile and squeezed his arm. Natia sighed to herself and kept pushing forward, closer and closer to the early morning and it's dew that gave a slight glow to the ruins that now left Warsaw in disarray. 

It sent her stomach twirling, an odd sense of anger and sadness, budding within her heart as she looked upon her city. 

Each and every day she got to gaze at her city and each and every day she saw it for what it currently was - a bombed out city. It was rather quiet compared to the chaos and news of the Dresden mission unfolding below. 

But it was quiet out here - no birds chirped, no bustling of cars on the roads, mothers reprimanding their child, dogs barking, bakers calling out to customers. It was Warsaw, but it wasn't. A ruined Warsaw was it's only noticeable feature. 

Natia took a glance in the soft morning light, up towards the blue sky, gently putting her hand up to block the harsh sun rays and she watched a singular bird fly overhead, slower and weaker than others that had been through 2 years ago. 

Barely a bird tempted to fly over Warsaw anymore. It was an odd silence, similar to the one that drummed inside of her head all the time, just seeing all the empty streets, with no one around and for a moment, no Nazis praying at the corners, watching and waiting to murder you on sight. It was quiet.

The soft crunch of footsteps behind her caused her to glance over her shoulder as she saw Kaja approach. Kaja's gentle blue eyes met Natia's from under her field cap, and suddenly it didn't seem so quiet anymore as Kaja stepped into the sunlight and up next to Natia on a ruin of a fallen building. They stood quietly.

" Beauty in the ruins to those who see." Kaja said softly, her voice gentle in the soft morning. Natia sighed and looked down at her dust covered boots. Dust always settled over them. 

" What do you mean?" Natia asked her and Kaja softly shrugged, before glancing at Natia.

" It's up for interpretation, really." Kaja said," But once you helped me escape imprisonment, I found it made more sense than I thought it ever did." 

Kaja Wozniak had been imprisoned by the Nazis in the Schloss Klessheim, working on serving food, in the back kitchens, while only getting a crumb or two to eat - all because she was simply just that - Jewish. 

Ryzshard had risked his life to save her own, it's a reason Ryszhard had a soft spot for her. 

But everyone had a soft spot for Kaja - she was the embodiment of a peaceful and quiet and wise soul, who turned her anger into light and never failed to make someone smile on their worst days, or hold them until the tears ran out. That was just Kaja. 

Brought up in Gdansk, she lived more on the port city, the poorer side, but she lived the best life she could before the Nazis invaded and stripped her of her Jewish heritage and sent her into a camp - she was only taken away because she could cook and they needed cooks for important gatherings and meals - especially at Schloss Klessheim. 

Ryzshard had saved her life.

" Take this," Kaja said, her petite body, bending down to pick up a part of the downed building, rolling it around in her grasp a bit before glancing up at Natia, " it's a part of the building, isn't it? A part of the ruin?" Natia nodded. Kaja looked at it.

" It might just be a rock in the face of others, but it's because you didn't turn it over." she said and then Kaja slowly turned it over and on the other side, muddled by dirt, and other particles was a tiny white flower growing, connected solely to the rock, unharmed and untouched by war.

" Beauty in the ruins." Natia whispered and Kaja grinned at Natia with a nod.

" A quite rare and beautiful flower that my mother used to grow before the Nazis took over." Kaja said, a soft smile on her face. She still talked about her home with so much love, even if it were now destroyed by the enemy, the horrid Nazis. 

Strength in war, one would call it.

" It's still beautiful in a war." Kaja said softly, a gentle smile on her face. Natia wished she could look at life the way Kaja did - even after all the horror that was brought upon her at such a young age, she still managed to smile so gracefully. Natia looked at life as if it were her enemy - it was her enemy. Kaja gently glanced up towards Natia and smiled softly.

" Sometimes it's hard to find, but after a bit you find it, right?" Kaja said, gently moving to place the rock down by Natia's feet again.

" Right." Natia said with a soft smile. Natia wished she could find it. 

" We'll cross the Vistula, we'll cross the Warta, we shall be Polish. Bonaparte has given us the example, of how we should prevail." Ryzshard's voice suddenly came from down below in the Underground, singing along to it's tune with pride and joy. The two women glanced at each other with soft smiles as Ryzshard came out looking like he was skipping to the tune as well.

" Ladies," he said as he approached.

" Always the charmer," Kaja called to him and Ryzshard snickered.

" My middle name," he said and Natia smirked at him, " you two ready?" 

" Ready as we'll ever be," Kaja said her voice light, an air of confidence floating through her vocal chords, " coordinates clocked in early this morning with Klimeck."

" Good," Ryzshard said and then glanced at Natia, " don't go killing anybody just yet, but feel free to open fire when you see this-" Ryzshard pulled up his Nazi field cap, " upon the head of the enemy."

" Thank you for telling me what I already know," Natia said and Ryzshard smirked at her, as Kaja giggled lightly.

" Maybe you should be telling yourself that," Kaja said to Ryzshard, gently patting his shoulder before stepping down past the sun-ridden rock onto the dusty ground again and moving down towards the Underground again. Ryzshard pulled a face and glanced at Natia.

" She's not lying." Natia said and Ryzshard scoffed.

" What are you on to?" Ryzshard said with a sly grin. Natia chuckled, turning to glance up towards the blue sky again, lit up by the sun's rays.

" I vaguely remember a young boy about your age, raiding the candy stores with a smirk and a convincing way of tongue with the women at the front counters. His name might've started with an R, but I can't remember that part too well." Natia aid as Ryzshard chuckled, snickering beside her.

" Well, what else was I supposed to do with my short attention span, go fishing?" Ryzshard said back to her and Natia chuckled. Ryzshard could easily make her laugh more than anyone - just like Dad. 

But Dad wasn't here and neither was Mom.

" Still helps today." Ryzshard said and Natia smirked.

" Yes it does." Natia said, her eyes finally settling on the layered dust upon the ground, dust that had long ago settled, falling faster than a mere feather through the air. 

From a bird, shot from the sky. 

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H I S T O R I C A L N O T E S

>> It is true that in October of 1939, what Polish citizens that Poland could gather, with soldiers and early resistance fighters, a plan was plotted to kill Hitler. Ultimately they did not succeed in this doing. 

>> Baratol is an explosive made of a mixture of TNT and barium nitrate, with a small quantity of paraffin wax used as a phlegmatizing agent. In this sense, small portions are used by Cezar Iskra is this setting, but large quanities were used in atomic bombs, detonated at Trinity in 1945 for example. An example of this is the British hand grenade, the Mills bomb - where Cezar draws inspiration from. 

>> The phrase ' For the Commonwealth of Poland ' that Klimeck references is in relation to Poland being in the Commonwealth of now largely distributed among several Central and East European countries including Poland, Ukraine, Moldova, Belarus, Russia, Lithuania, Lativa and Estonia. 

_> > Poland Is Not Yet Lost _is the national anthem of Poland, composer unknown, but arranged by Kaximierz Sikorski in the 1820s. It is known as the Mazurek Dabrowskiego, but Poland is Not Yet Lost in English. Ryzshard sings multiple lines from this national anthem. 

>> Anna Zakzewska was one of the many young members that served with the Polish Underground Army as a courier and medical orderly. She was later killed in desperate combat during the Warsaw Uprising of 1944.

>> Witold Pilecki was a Polish officer, intelligence agent and resistance leader during the Second World War and he volunteered himself to be captured by the Nazis and embedded into the Auschwitz concentration camp to fully get a grasp on what was occurring in the camp, as at the time he was sent there, they did not know much of what occurred. The Polish Home Army and Resistance was actually the resistance group that successfully put as much information out to the Allies as they could about the Holocaust. 

>> Gdansk is a city in Poland, a port city on the Baltic Coast. Kaja comes from this port city as it had to be heavily constructed after World War 2 occurred. 

A / N 

_hey friends!! i am BACK with another chapter - it's one i love a lot :) we get an insight to a variety of what occurs behind the scenes while operations occur and i just really thought it was a fun chapter to craft and put together. the next chapter, hint hint, features the duo of ryzshard and kaja and ryzshard's mission to help kaja escape, as it is important to the story to show that people went to lengths to help others escape in moments of fear. definitely super excited!! <3 _

_thank you all for reading as always, i appreciate you all more than anything! :)_


	10. The Teasing of Death's Claws

" Death doesn't discriminant between the sinners and the saints. It just takes and takes and takes."

_\- Mohit Chandra_

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**_Schloss Klessheim, Wals-Siezenheim, Austria_ **

**_March 16th, 1943_ **

**_2000_ **

Ryzshard had spotted the quiet, blonde Jewish girl in the corner of the Schloss Klessheim on March 16th, 1943, with soft eyes, tired and fatigued arms, and stripes sticking out from the bottom of her two times too big uniform - his mind had gone to malnourishment. 

But Ryzshard, even though quite possibly the biggest dumbass on Earth, was not a dumbass in this moment. Sure, all the tomfoolery and his absolutely dumb moments in life, had managed to hold him a position, convincing enough in the Third Reich, he knew what the Nazis had done to the Jewish peoples of the world, as well as the Poles, the Gypsies, the Homosexuals, the Homeless - all of them - the undesirables. 

Ryzshard was not blind to evil. 

Ryzshard had positioned himself up against a bare wall, cigarette lit upon his lip, one made by the Nazis themselves - it was a rather bitter taste, reminding him of how utterly depleting the Nazis were. 

A drink sloshed in his hand, one that bartender had drawn up for him on his own devices, as a German woman fluttered her eyelashes towards Ryzshard, leaning forward, closer to him, inclined entirely by his presence, the uniform, his eyes. 

Ryzshard had to hold himself from rolling his eyes as he turned his attention again on the blonde woman that was his current mission. 

Natia had been rather inclined to take the mission herself, but Ryzshard stepped in especially when she was currently sporting a set of broken ribs that he just knew hurt to move the slightest bit in. She was than rather reluctant in letting him go. 

Ryzshard noticed the woman watching him, the champagne in her glass being slowly sipped. Ryzshard turned away again, attention on the blonde. He was no Nazi and no lover of the Nazis - he wouldn't dare touch the enemy. He didn't know how many showers he would have to bare after the touch of someone who could do what they did. 

It had made him sick too many times, forcing him, a mere child to grow up on his own to feet, orphaned with barely an ounce of reality in the real world, all alone with a war on his shoulders like a vulture. 

Dangling him above Death. 

Ryzshard enjoyed the trip though - the teasing of Death's claws was quite the campfire story. 

Ryzshard sucked down more of his drink and gently swallowed, before letting his eyes catch upon the quiet woman with the tray of drinks in her shaky grasp. 

Watching her, her cocked his head to the side briefly as her eyes caught upon his for a moment across the room, but she pushed her head down and kept moving, the glasses of alcohol on her platter she carried in her arms, shaking.

" Scholz." a voice said and Ryzshard nearly choked on his drink at the gaze of an old bat in front of his eyes. He had to hold back the rather boyish chuckle that willed to escape. 

If Cezar or Felicjan were here - he would've lost it. 

Working alone allowed him a better focus.

" Sir," Ryzshard said, with a nod. 

_Who the fuck is this?_

" It's such a pleasure to finally meet you, Henri, we've heard so much up above about you." the man said, his voice smooth like cream, gentle compared to the harsh look that dwindled within his brown eyes. Ryzshard sipped his drink so he could avert the intense gaze. 

" Ah, I bet." Ryzshard said confidently," I've made quite the impression upon Herr Heydrich." 

Confidence. 

Ryzshard oozed confidence - sure Klimeck had prepped him on the mysterious, humble side of the Nazis and remaining under the weather in this mission - yeah that wasn't Ryzshard. He was more like 0-80, wake up and run a 5k sorta guy on an empty stomach. 

Winging it was more fun anyway. 

And plus impressing the darkest member of the Nazi Regime - who wouldn't show off? Klimeck wouldn't, she was a powerful leader, but she remained humble as Agent Valhalla - Agent Legio, well, yeah he was a different story. Ryzshard was a different story. Klimeck would be sure to kill him for this, but arrogance had never led him astray before. The man chuckled.

" Quite right, Heydrich has raved about you to staff. And you've managed to further our mission for The Final Solution in many regards. We couldn't thank you more." the man said, with a nod sipping his drink. Ryzshard let a chilled smile across his face with a curt nod. 

Lucky for him, Ryzshard had actually managed to delay it even more - they were just too dumb to even comprehend that.

" We'll call it that." Ryzshard said, forcing a bleak laugh past his lips, a chuckle maybe, as he sipped his drink, " Mind over matter." The man chuckled again with a nod.

" You are quite an intelligent young man," the tall man said to Ryzshard and Ryzshard raised a brow.

" Why thank you." Ryzshard said. 

_That's a first._

" Being so young, yet so intelligent, when the war ends, do you consider college as an option for someone like you, a big name school, for when we finally are known as the world-renowned ruler?" the man asked him curiously. Ryzshard smirked.

" Life's been too much fun for that, sir, I figured college would waste my time and the military, even after a war such as this would lead me in a better direction, possibly Chief of Staff." Ryzshard said lying through the skin of his teeth.

" Impressive," the man said and Ryzshard smirked.

" Must be to be apart of the greatest Regime of the 20th century." Ryzshard said.

" In the history of the entire world, young boy." the man said with a hearty chuckle. 

_I wouldn't get too ahead of yourself,_ Ryzshard wanted to spit out, but he merely raised his glass, before following the rest down his burning throat, anger bubbling in his bones. 

Ryzshard's eyes caught upon the name on the collar Hans-Adolf Prutzmann. 

A switch flipped in his mind. SS Superior and Police Official. 

Right, the man who was replaced by a murderer. 

How cunning. 

Ryzshard caught movement in his left eye, the drink halfway to his lips, as the young blonde haired woman, the woman he was supposed to help escape this hell hole, grabbed roughly upon her arm, the drinks falling down the front of her, spilling on her uniform and onto her toes. Ryzshard nearly lost his shit and his self-control. If it wasn't for his fathers words that ran like a cycle in his head, he would've sucker punched Prutzmann right in the nose.

" If you would...excuse me for a moment, the porcelain god awaits my arrival." Ryzshard said with a chuckle. Prutzmann let out a hearty, deep throated laugh filled with a drunkness that touched his innards quite possibly. 

" Of course Henri, of course." he said, " I'll be getting some of those tea sandwiches while you're gone." Ryzshard forced a sickening chuckle past his lips and then turned placing the cigarette to his lips and sucking in a breath.

" I should be paid for this." he muttered, eyes focusing again on the young blonde woman who now was on the ground, refraining from crying in that very moment, as the Nazi who had jostled her, cackled drunkly above her figure, his own drink now sloshing about. Ryzshard finished off the smoke and respectfully burned it out in the stub pot, before approaching the scene. 

" Ah, Henri! You've arrived!" the drunk man. 

And who was this?

" Already drunk I'm assuming?" Ryzshard called out, sarcasm threatening to tip over at the current moment. The man just chuckled.

" This stupid girl bumped into me, mind watching where you go next time around?" the man said, his eyes trained on the young woman now, before spitting in her general direction. 

Ryzshard was going to lose his shit, he was going to lose his mind. 

If only it were a world where you could mentally deck someone with your body and no one would see.

" How about you run along, I'm sure the Fuhrer has been looking for you, you know he's always up for a toast." Ryzshard said, waving his hand in a general direction of nowhere it seemed. 

" Right, right, get yourself a drink as well, my dear friend." he called skipping away like a child.

" Oh, I'll drink." Ryzshard muttered, eyes watching the man move away, narrowed and cold. Ryzshard then turned upon the young woman. She cowered in fear under him, her eyes barely moving up from ground level. 

Ryzshard's heart broke. 

But he needed to act quickly, move her to the bathroom, explain the plan, do something, anything to get her out of this situation. Ryzshard dropped to his knees, softly crouching in front of the woman and watched her head. She refused to look up at him, hands trembling as they moved over the broken shards of glass upon the ground.

" Hey," Ryzshard whispered, his Polish gentle on her ears - familiar, welcoming, a sound of home. But the young woman refused to look up. He noticed her hands slowed as they moved the glass shards. 

" Poland is not yet lost." Ryzshard whispered softly and almost immediately the young woman's head shot up, her piercing blue eyes meeting his own and for a moment, it was like they were severed together, bonded by their Polish blood.

" You are not a Nazi?" she whispered, her eyes not believing what she was hearing nor seeing. 

" The Kotwica lies permanently on my heart." Ryzshard whispered and her eyes widened.

" Warsaw." she whispered back and Ryzshard dipped his head. 

" Pick everything up and retreat to the nearest bathroom - I will follow." he whispered. The woman watched him and then nodded. 

Ryzshard stood to his feet, shaking his head above her, trying to put on some sort of show, some sort of act, so nothing grew too suspicious. Then the woman was up and moving yet again, the shattered pieces of glass upon her tray. Ryzshard cleared his throat, straying behind her and moving towards where she was going. Ryzshard watched her move down a darkened hallway and then slip undercover into an even darker room. Ryzshard glanced over his shoulder, eyes searching for a Nazi's own set of eyes before focusing himself forward again. 

Ryzshard reached up to loosen his collar, sweat building around his neck. He slowly approached the heavy oak door, a tiny light and the number 41 upon the door. Ryzshard glanced back down the large hallway before grabbing the handle and pushing inside. 

The minute he did, he saw the young woman, standing with a finger to her lips in the dim light, eyes watching his very soul. He slowly nodded, making a quick effort to softly shut and lock the door. 

Once the door managed to click closed, the woman's finger slowly left her thin lips and she was left staring at the Pole in the Nazi uniform. Ryzshard stared at the woman, an uneven tension filtering into the room.

" Why are you helping me?" she whispered. Ryzshard watched her, his stance slightly turned from her, his gaze watching her cautiously.

" I'm apart of the Polish Resistance working under SOE, Agent Legio, I'm here to take you home." Ryzshard said. The woman watched him, her eyes squinting at him, her jaw slightly dropping and going slack. 

Ryzshard knew that giving her as much as information as he did, the SOE, the Polish Resistance, his Agent codename - _Legio_ \- all of it was risky, but the look in her eye told him that he could trust her. 

She was no enemy. She was an ally on the inside. She knew things he didn't. A valuable resourceful human being.

" What's your name? You're real name?" the woman asked, still hesitant, with her guard held up by strong barriers, from years of having to hold it up from the Nazis. 

By the look upon her pale face and sunken in cheeks with wispy blond hair, she looked like Death on two feet. 

Death took strange appearances most of the time, but it was almost always with the same frozen facade.

" Ryzshard Filipski." Ryzshard said, voice quiet, " I've been with the Resistance since 1942, and before then the SOE and the Cichociemni before becoming a Home Army member and working into the ranks of the Third Reich to sneak out intelligence. We do everything we can to evade the Nazis and break them as much as we can." The woman watched him. There was still alcohol spilled down the front of her and she still wore the stupid striped uniform which made Ryzshard's toes curl with anger. 

" Yours?" Ryzshard asked her, eyes catching the hesitant flip of a switch inside her brain.

" Kaja Wozniak. A125873." she whispered, rolling the sleeve of her uniform up to reveal the number embedded into her arm - a tattoo that would follow her like a ghost of a nightmare.

" They tattooed you." Ryzshard hissed and Kaja met his gaze. Ryzshard saw the pain that was gated behind her eyes, as he watched her. Something broke in her.

" They did it to everyone, I was one of the last to receive the A for a Jewish Woman." she whispered, " It's too dangerous to discuss what happened to me here, are we leaving or not?" Ryzshard felt a small smirk crawl onto his face.

" I like you, Wozniak, I think you'd fit right in." Ryzshard said, as his eyes carried him to the bathroom window. She saw Kaja watch him.

" Deception was easy enough." she answered him, eyes following his gaze. 

" Bathroom window," she said with a nod, " it can't be that easy." Ryzshard smirked at her, a dashing grin upon his face.

" Well with me, we can make it this easy." he said and Kaja felt a tiny smile appearing on her face as she watched him. 

Ryzshard slowly moved up towards the tiny window - not too tiny, it had some wiggle room and the both of them were tiny enough - _ah_. 

So this is why Natia was rather quick to recommend him, when she had taken the hit to the ribs. 

_Goddamnit_. 

Ryzshard pushed the window up and out and was hit with a slightly chilly blast of cool air that shot in from the outside world and came back sputtering a bit, choking on the cool, night air which was like knives on his throat. Kaja watched him.

" Something in your throat?" she asked him, her quiet eyes watching his curiously.

" Hayfever." he replied rather weakly, attempting a feint smirk before giving one final shove on the bathroom window and fully opening it. 

Then suddenly there was a loud knock on the bathroom door, and Ryzshard mentally cursed his entire being. 

Of course it wasn't this easy. 

Ryzshard grunted and then softly hopped down from the top of the toilet and sent a glance towards Kaja who watched him with wide eyes and a slowly paling face of worry. Ryzshard reached up and slowly put a finger to his lips and then sent a small smirk.

" No need to worry, it's me we're talking about." Ryzshard said and Kaja watched him.

" That sounds like enough to worry about as it is." she whispered back and Ryzshard fought down the chuckle.

" Someone's using this one!" Ryzshard called through the door, leaning up against it, awaiting the reply.

" Well, hurry up. I can't wait all day." the response came and Ryzshard chuckled to himself.

" Max Winkler is that you?" Ryzshard called a smirk on his face. He was having more fun than he should be having. 

" Good heavens dear boy how did you know?" the man exclaimed.

" Why I would know one of the most popular Nazi movie makers in the land wouldn't I?" Ryzshard called back - thank you Dwad. 

Maybe Dwad's fun facts weren't as annoying as Ryzshard initially thought.

" You must be Henri, well, sir I am so sorry to interrupt you, I've heard all about you, incredible man for such a young age. I'll leave you now if you just tell me where the other facility is." Max said. Oh thank God. 

" Upstairs and to the left, golden trim doorway." Ryzshard answered.

" Terribly sorry to have interrupted you." Ryzshard heard Max Winkler's voice call as he trailed away before his footsteps ceased to exist. Ryzshard let out a sigh and then turned and saw Kaja watching him.

" What?" he asked, leaning up from the door and brushing off his hands.

" I may be a dumbass, but I am an Agent, I did pay attention." he said, running a hand through his hair as he looked around a bit. Kaja snickered to herself.

" I would assume you're not supposed to be telling me what you're telling me." she told him and Ryzshard met her gaze.

" You were easy to trust." he answered. Kaja raised a brow up a bit.

" Too easy." she answered before turning her gaze upon the window, leaving a confused Ryzshard watching her. 

Man, he wasn't the brightest sometimes - he just got...sidetracked. That was the word. 

Ryzshard looked toward Kaja who seemed to already be calculating her escape route. 

Ok, if Ryzshard was honest, he did not expect the woman to be what Kaja was - sure, quiet, shy, maybe slightly mysterious in her own ways, but she was speaking to him, using her wit and way of words to outsmart him, and seemed to push the past events of her years from her brain. The strength she held. Ryzshard admired that.

" Where will we go after this? You did think that far didn't you?" Kaja asked quietly. Ryzshard smirked.

" I'm not that dumb." he said, " I have a driver set out on the south side of the lawn, a rather obnoxious one, but 4 years in war, you can't expect much better." Kaja nodded with a smile.

" Thank you," she said, her voice turning genuine within mere seconds, of her rather quite sarcastic remark she had posed earlier. She'll fit right in. 

" I'll give you a leg up." he offered and Kaja smiled gently with a nod, " And once you get out the window, stay hidden until I'm down beside you - we'll have to sneak around the bushes." Kaja nodded firmly. Ryzshard slowly cast a glance towards the doorway and then cleared his throat and situated his hands.

" Alright," he said with a nod. Kaja softly and tenderly climbed up and nestled her foot into his hands, before grabbing and latching her two hands onto the railing of where the window was. It was the perfect size. 

" Alright," she called softly back and Ryzshard gave a slight push, and the rest of the time, she was able to pull herself up and over. The only sound was the sound of a groan and a body hitting the ground. Ryzshard jumped up next and stuck his head out of the window.

" I didn't say it'd be pretty." he called out quietly.

" I didn't expect it to." she answered and Ryzshard chuckled. 

Ryzshard glanced back into the room - the door needed to be unlocked. If it weren't unlocked, things would grow suspicious already because he wasn't leaving out of the main entrance and instead the bathroom window. 

Ryzshard quickly hopped down and unlocked the door, hearing the magic click that signaled it was unlocked. 

With a sigh he turned and moved towards the window and immediately pulled himself up and out of the window, before flying and falling down just below right beside Kaja in the dew ridden grass. The wind was quickly knocked out of Ryzshard's lungs as he let out a slightly choked sigh. The dew like grass began soaking the Nazi uniform and Ryzshard cursed himself - he'd be chewed out for sure. 

Ryzshard lightly turned his head in the grass to see Kaja, eyes wide, breathing heavy as she stared up at the sky, the stars sprinkling their gentle starlight down upon them.

" I've never seen the stars for what they were in war." she whispered, " They're still so bright." 

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H I S T O R I C A L N O T E S 

Hans-Adolf Prutzmann was a high-ranking German official during the Nazi Era . From June to November 1941, he served as the Higher SS and Police Leader in the Army Group North Rear Area in the occupied Soviet Union. In this capacity, he oversaw the activities of the Einsatzpruggen detachments that perpetrated The Holocaust in the Baltic States. 

>> It is actually TRUE that he was replaced a 'murderer' a Ryzshard previously stated! Himmler replaced Prutzmann in mid-November of 1941 with Friedrick Jecklen, who was at the time, an experienced murdered who in Ukraine had developed his own 'Jeckeln system' of killing 10,000 or more people in a single day - this was because Himmler was not happy with the pace Prutzmann was taking with the duties he had to uphold in Lativa. 

Legio - Ryzshard's SOE Agent name, Agent Legio (also his codename, just like his sisters'), comes from Julius Caesar's favorite Legion, which was _Legio X Equestris_ \- it was initially his most trusted. 

A125873 - Women who were Polish-Jews, one of the major first groupings, were given the 'A' letter to mark that, as Kaja states as a Polish-Jew herself. _  
_

Max Winkler was, as stated, a film maker, one of the most famous, but he was also a politician and senior political appointee. He was made to create the interests of all German film companies, with things like propaganda and continuing the spread of Nazism through film.

A / N 

_hey hey!!! AH ANOTHER CHAPTER!!! this one i love and will always love - we get a bit of a look into ryzshard as a character which is exciting as well as the quiet, kaja wozniak! quiet but holds great strength within her - she's a fascinating character!! this was super fun to write, just to see this little view into some of the operations ryzshard specifically deals with as agent legio! :) just a bit of an update - i have a lot of chapters written at the current moment, so i'm hoping that, POSSIBLY, i'll be able to do updates, on fridays as per usual, but throw in a few tuesdays here and there just for the fun of it!! i think it'd be fun!! thank you all for reading as always, i appreciate it more than anything on joining me in on this journey - we're getting closer to the boys! i am HYPE! <3_


	11. A Sheltered Darkness

“ Sheltered in a ribcage of the undead, I set my soul free while chaos breathes another day.”

_\- Soul with no name._

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**_Dresden, Germany_ **

**_April 25th, 1944_ **

**_2030_ **

They arrived in Dresden by the following evening, when the train was scheduled to make its appearance. The port for the train was near the outskirts of the city, but the location upon which they'd be inserting the explosives was in the woods and hills surrounding the city - in secret, in shadows and in hiding. 

Franciszek had made contact with rebels of the French Resistance, a few Maquis members that had been on the run in Germany, but had gotten contact from de Gaulle on the mission and had set their courses there. 

Dwad and Angelika were out on their early scouting maneuver in the late, dimly lit evening, hidden amongst the trees farther ahead, with a tiny radio clipped to their side to alert when the train drew near. They were the most accurate duo of the entire group. 

Felicjan and Kaja were never directly on the scene, they tended to stay back with the radio with some of the other higher ups like Klimeck or sometimes Antoni who would tag along in operations as such and provide his support, which was boundless. 

Zofia took up positions regularly with Ryzshard, the two working together, so that he could translate back to Felicjan and Kaja or to Dwad and Angelika or sometimes even to Franciszek who was set with them and his headset. Zofia tended to break codes as if it were a daytime job and so they kept her moving through the groups, as she tended to remain a rather large target amongst the Nazis and other enemies around them. 

Cezar stuck with Natia - he always had, even from the very beginning after the Cichociemni had made their jump back into Nazi-occupied Poland and the group had reunited and helped build the Polish Home Army stronger. 

Sending him alone into the fray usually resulted in more harm done than good. 

Crouched in the dark bushes of the German forest, Natia's eyes remained narrowed on sight at the scene displayed in front of her - a shadowed railroad track, being broken in more and more from its constant use, bolts sharply driven into the sides by the Nazis themselves - an assurance on their part, they always needed some sort of assurance before doing anything - a sign of a vital weakness. 

Trust was rather hard it seemed in their side of things. 

Natia's breathing was steady, sweat starting to slowly creep upon her body as she waited beside Cezar under the cover of darkness.

" Do you think it's on time?" Cezar asked her, his twitchy hands fiddling with the multitude of bombs and explosives that lay right beneath his fingertips, " I mean, Francis has been right before, are these even the right coordinates-" Natia was quick to grab the front of his uniform and pull them face to face, his eyes wide as he stared into her devious brown ones. 

" Maybe if you stop speaking, I might actually be able to hear if the train is coming." she whispered, " Have I taught you nothing?" Cezar watched her.

" You've taught me plenty."

" Clearly not enough about keeping your mouth shut under the eyes of the enemy." she muttered, her eyes piercing his soul it felt. Natia then nodded to him and slowly released her hand from the front of his uniform. 

Cezar Iskra had always hung around the Filispki's for as long as she could remember, ever since Ryzshard had started his schooling years, talking about his best friend - Cezar Iskra. It was like they were brothers, by heart, not by blood. And even though Natia bickered with Cezar more than she should, she always had fun with Cezar, back on the days where they weren't ravaged by war and heartache. When she was actually happy. But Cezar was a reliable friend and a highly loyal one as well - he was there when he was needed.

" Sorry," muttered Natia, " I needed to focus and you're running mouth in my ear was not helping."

" Right," Cezar said," at least I have someone to keep me on my toes." Natia smirked and gently glanced down, her ear listening for the sound of a train, it's mass pulling it closer and closer with each chug along the rail. 

There was a crackle at her side - the radio. And the voice could quite literally say anything and the whole plan could change. Natia grabbed the radio and licked her lips before bringing it up to her lips.

" Fidel, over." she called through the radio. A crackle came back and it was clear that it was Franciszek's voice.

" The Maquis have made contact up the railroad aways - we're on schedule for action." he said, speaking clearly and confidently through the radio, " Contact - 1900. Cargo - same as before, Zyklon B, in multiple compartments, as well as people on 4 carts, we'll have to move quickly."

" And the Maquis are sure it's the right train?" Felicjan's voice came back through, " Because if not, this whole thing could be entirely screwed up and we end up herding sheep off or some bullshit like that." Natia clicked in.

" Marowski, how about you just trust your gut and your instincts, and all the accuracies and struggles we went through to get here. As well as using appropriate language and saying over when you're done. Over." Natia said and then clicked the tiny button. Felicjan's chuckle came through and the slamming of it turning off signaled Kaja had all but smacked him across the head. Children.

" Thank you, Fidel." Franciszek said over the radio, a slight grin in his response it seemed, " If we could keep it formal on the radios please, we've been over this more than once if we all remember correctly. And we've done this more than once as well. Anymore conversation of the sort, and I think in about 40 years when they discover this conversation, they'll be rather concerned I'm assuming." 

Chuckles echoed over the radio and Cezar snorted. Franciszek had to be the most respectable of them all, but once you crossed his path, you never went over again. Natia was pretty sure Felicjan had made it to his hit list first back in 1941 and still remained on the hit list 3 years later. They were lucky Zofia could crack and jam com-links and any other sorts of radio hackers from getting reception on their radios - without her, their conversations would all but disappear and have to be kept in even more secret terms. Natia heard Cezar chuckle from beside her and it made Natia smirk.

" Can you lot please stay off this channel?" Dwad's voice suddenly called coming through, " Any louder and the train won't be heard over the sound of your obnoxious voices." 

" 3 years and we're still bickering about the sound of my voice through the radio, are we?" Felicjan called back and the slight 'ow' that traveled over the static was the signal for Kaja ripping the radio from his grasp.

" Focus your efforts again on the North side, you should be seeing a train approaching shortly." Kaja said, and clicked off. Leave it to Kaja to keep the group on track. 

" Hey, guys, open up those ears - coming your way." Angelika's voice broke out across the speaker. 

Almost instantly, Natia shut off the radio and shoved it upon her belt. She could hear it, the feint whistle of the train, the movement and grinding of all the intricacies of it, the squealing and hissing of the entire engine moving along the track.

" 1.5 kilometers." the radio crackled, a count down setting off in Natia's head. Natia turned and nodded to Cezar who shot up like a bullet from his position, moving forward with his field cap bouncing a bit upon his head and hurried towards the train tracks which weren't much farther in front of them. 

Natia watched Cezar like a hawk, his hands expertly placing the explosives around the vast majority of bolts along the railway, enough to at least stop the train from its current path. The resistance members in the nearby bushes would launch their highly explosive hand grenades forward and watch as their damage was enough to set the front of the train ablaze in scorching, red-hot flames of fury. A fury of passion for which the Polish Resistance and its members had burned on for 5 years. 

Within seconds, Cezar had clicked them into place and set their timers before scampering back over towards her within a second, moving behind the bush again, breathing heavily, but with a wild look set in his eyes. He had managed.

" 1 kilometer." the voice crackled, " You're on your own." And they waited and watched, the train and its engine coming closer, the whistling of the horn overwhelming their ears, their eyes preying like vultures. It was time to stalk before the initial attack that would take over later. 

" Half a kilometer." Cezar muttered from beside her. 

See? Reliable. 

And he was right on the money - the train rumbling into view around the corner, twisting between the dark trees which had seen enough war in their life time to possess more than that of what a human could've seen. They were rooted there for far longer than the others, than mere humans. They soaked it all in while humans tried to block it out - trees did that. 

Natia watched the train come closer and for a moment, it was like time slowed and she could dissect each bit of the train, where everything was, and how to attack it properly. Natia gave a nod to Cezar as the train came closer, and within a second he nodded towards the explosives. An ear-splitting pop went off, causing Natia to smirk. It had worked. 

Cezar and Natia barely flinched anymore as the explosions engulfed the train like it were a firework show. Smoke of reds and yellows billowing up into the dark sky - oh they'd ALL get to see the show now. 

A whistle echoed from the opposite side of the train and within seconds, resistance fighters had taken a few steps, launching their grenades and other such explosives forward toward the front of the train. 

If you destroyed the front it could no longer move, it'd perish. 

If you cut off the head of the snake, the rest of the body went limp.

If they cut of the supply, they would save more lives than ever imagined, even if by now it were a small percent. 

They were still saving innocent souls. 

And by now, it was complete and utter chaos - Natia thrived under chaos' grasp, as if she were a child on a play set. After 5 years of doing such things, it had become fun, to see your successes get bigger each time. 

Natia immediately popped up like a cork out of a wine bottle, and hopped off the slight perch, her eyes flaming with the burning fire that had engulfed the large front of the train. The scent of burning metal and lumber filtered into her nose, sending her coughing gently, as she felt her eyes beginning to water from the intense heat that had set the front of the train ablaze. 

Natia slowly turned her head from the fiery explosion towards where she could see Ryzshard leaping up towards the side of one of the compartments further down. It would be humans or Zyklon B - it had to be one of the two. 

Natia picked up her pace as she approached where Ryzshard stood yanking open to compartment door, Zofia at his feet, staring up towards him, heavy radio perched upon her back, the telephone hanging, nearly touching the ground by this point, as she struggled to reach up to help him. Being short and charged like a light bulb didn't help. 

Natia slowly looked up to where Ryzshard had finally pulled open the door and her breath caught in her throat. 

It wasn't humans or Zyklon B - neither of those things. 

It was hundreds and hundreds of weapons, loaded into the back of this sector of the compartment, stacked high to the ceilings, shiny and clean and polished to its highest decals. Fresh, new, all sorts of stuff - this wasn't in the plan. Natia almost couldn't hear the crackling spits of the fire engulfing the front of the train anymore as her light and cautious footsteps slowly approached the edge of the train car. Ryzshard glanced down at her, her eyes slowly traveling up to meet his gaze again.

" This wasn't in the plan," Ryzshard said. Natia smirked slightly.

" Might've not been, but we can make it apart of it now," she said, before turning and looking over her shoulder to her fellow resistance fighters, the rebels of Poland who never failed to fight as gallantly as they did, " change of plans, the double cargo was actually, a seemingly, surprise shipment of weaponry, which means a lower load of Zyklon B and less human deaths. Which means more weapons for us! For Poland! For your homeland!" 

Cheers, loud and powerful rang out from the entire group of fighters amongst the darkened trees, yells and whoops and cheers ringing in like sleigh bells. Maybe there were some people on this train, ones that would be saved, each and every last one of them, and maybe there was some Zyklon B aboard. 

But Natia couldn't help but smile to herself. 

Though her trust would never fully lie in Kurt Gernstein, he had not so discretely surprised them with weaponry. Even amongst the shadows of the Nazis he managed to slip away and even give them a little surprise as if it were Christmas or a birthday. 

And the Resistance would take it right out under the noses of the Nazis with a prideful smile on each of their lips. 

And weapons would be passed around if it were peoples' own children - like taking candy from a baby. 

Natia was not letting her Błyskawica submachine gun from her shoulder, even if it meant fighting life or death for it. That little submachine gun had been with her in various degrees around continental Europe and she refused to give it up for the touch of an enemies weapon. She would not waste her perfectly useful and capable weapon when someone who fought just as hard as her didn't have one of their own. 

Greed was infectious, but you needed to know the difference between a leader and a poster image. 

Natia had jumped down from the train car that held all the fine Nazi weaponry, she pushed through, away from the soft light that glowed back into the darkness where two final train cars lay. 

Zyklon B or humans? 

All or split? 

She wouldn't know until she pulled open the train car door. 

Natia's hand grasped the smooth, metal clasp on the door, slightly rusted from use. She gripped it and then gave a tight pull on the wooden door, watching it slowly pan away in front of her eyes to reveal the other side.

And the sight that struck her numbed her soul further into its cavern. 

Eyes. 

Eyes everywhere in the sheltered darkness. 

And a foul scent that lingered once the door had touched fresh air. 

Natia knew she was silhouetted from them, her dark figure, hidden by the light behind her, the yells of celebration and excitement in Polish going off behind her figure. Natia swallowed thickly, her throat tightening at the sight. She should be used to it by now, the sight of the Nazis' results of war - but it never failed to make her stomach clench in a cramp, her throat tremor closed, her hands ball into white-knuckled fists, and a want to pop a magazine into her submachine and just spray it into the sky out of anger. 

The only thing grounding her was the haunted look as an onset in a majority of their eyes - fear, an impulse to run, desperation, and layer upon layer of scarring sutured into their minds - too much to fast. 

The crunching of footsteps beside Natia signaled a body had discovered the eyes as well. Natia slowly glanced over to Zofia who stood at her left, her focus on the humans and no longer the death machine that was held within her grasp. 

Zofia Mazur was strong, but she crumbled in her spot like a dry cookie, her jaw falling slack, eyes moving upon the huddled group of people inside the train cart.

" Here!" Zofia immediately said moving forward, to grab hold of the metal handle and pull herself up and into the train car. 

And slowly Zofia's voice faded from Natia's ears, and Natia's hand slowly fell from the strap on her submachine gun, and her feet suddenly felt like they were digging deeper and deeper pits into the ground, sinking further and further into the dense Earth as if she were drowning. Like her entire axis tilted. 

5 years and she still couldn't stand the sight of what the Nazis were capable of, it made her so sick, and she felt so ungodly vile after witnessing what the enemy was capable of. She hated it more than anything in this world.

" Nat!" a voice called and Natia snapped her icy eyes up to meet that of Zofia's who was helping an elderly man stand to his feet, crippled and utterly broken, his entire body weight against Zofia's the entire time, struggling to hold himself as he did so. 

The Nazis had done this. 

And all Natia saw was fire, a flame, of pure, sought out anger, budding like a flower inside her mind. 

This was the Nazis' fault, they were the reason these people were the way they were. 

How inhuman could you possibly be to be capable of such atrocities? 

_You don't feel anything_ , Natia whispered in her mind like a sin, like a drug, slowly falling blind to the pain she actually did feel - it got the heartache in her soul to finally leave again. Natia stepped forward, and offered her hand forward.

" Here, take my hand." Natia said, her calloused fingers stretching up towards his own where he clung to Zofia like she were God. 

Where was God now? 

Natia tried not to let her brain push itself into overdrive - it did more harm than good that way. 

The old man, with help from Zofia, slowly reached down and clasped his pale, skinny and wrinkled fingers around her hand. With a tight grip, she met the man's eyes and froze in the spot. 

The utter horror that struck her system at the look in his eyes, settled in a deep and dark pit, turning her soul even darker, a tiny part of her dying with it as well. Natia tried not to let her heart race in the moment as she slowly helped him down from the ledge. 

She was in a fog she felt, her hands moving in a ghost like motion to help person after person from the train, leading them past the darkened forest towards where Dwad and Angelika now were coming from their kilometer trek down the railroad, beginning to escort people away towards the nearby town where they would be housed in an underground bunker prepared in Teplice - an earlier discussed location by Zofia. 

A trek through the woods would take all night, but survival was first, it'd be worth it, if the reward was life. To even think in such a way seemed like a sin. 

Dwad, Angelika and a few of their other members began leading the people from the train car from the truck off into the eerily dark woods under the Nazis' eyes, no lights flickering in their general direction as they left. 

Those left behind had to address the Zyklon B - that was still in the train cars. Natia's gaze had turned on the train cars again, the ones that had yet to be unopened. Ryzshard caught Natia's gaze and slowly approached the two remaining cars - they had to be filled. Zofia let out a shaky sigh, swallowing thickly, moving her eyes between the two Flip Siblings.

" What are we going to do?" Zofia asked," Where will we put it?" The group hadn't dealt with a Zyklon B package in over 6 months - all their other past Zyklon B exports had failed, but this...so far seemed more successful than others. 

" Open pit burning." Natia said meeting her gaze, " It's been successful before and Cezar can easily do his job."

" In reverse." Ryzshard muttered and Natia sent him a look as he shrugged.

" It's true." he countered.

" Alright, back to reality please, how are we gonna transport all of it, there's two whole train cars of this." Zofia said, " Please tell Klimeck through far enough ahead for this step of the operation." Natia smiled.

" My sister never lets anything go untouched." Natia said, and then slowly grabbed the radio at her side and brought it up to her lips and cleared her throat.

" Klimeck?" Natia called, as Zofia flipped a switch on her radio - jammed, no interception whatsoever.

" I'm assuming you've stopped the train." Klimeck's voice crackled back through, " Good. Your transport should be arriving shortly a few hundred yards from where you are currently located, on a darkened road to the East."

" Thanks," Natia called back through the radio, her gaze traveling up towards the starlit sky, " please tell me after this there's a few drinks hastily awaiting our arrival?" Klimeck chuckled over the radio and the trio all smiled - just a bit of laughter never hurt.

" I think I can promise you that one," she said, " once you get those transports unloaded, get them in the vehicle, dispose of them-"

" Open burn pit, right?" Ryzshard said leaning forward and calling through the radio.

" Yes, Ry. Open burn pit." she said and Ryzshard smirked proudly with a nod. Zofia rolled her eyes before leaning forward.

" Uh, is there enough...room, dare I say?" Zofia asked.

" Double the cargo has been on repeat in all our heads since we got news on on it from Gernstein, there should be enough space in the vehicle heading your way." Klimeck stated back.

" Thanks," Natia said and Klimeck chuckled softly.

" Get it done." she said and then clicked off her mic as Zofia released a finger on her own larger radio. She could jam any radio signal in a 30 mile radius, and outside of that, no one would ever known that they were here. 

Natia looked up and towards the entirety of the Zyklon B train cart and then slowly clipped the radio onto her hip before stepping forward, and moving towards the train car. Natia reached up to grab ahold of the handle and then gave it a firm yank, the sliding door, rusting along many of the hinge plates, squealing at the mere vibration. 

Darkness awaited on the other side, swathed in Nazi terror, the door that had been jammed closed, now wide open. Natia stood staring up right into it. 

Reaching into one of the pockets of her uniform, she pulled out a tattered grey handkerchief and pushed it to her face, before grabbing the handle and pulling herself up and inside. Better to be safe than sorry. 

Natia stepped in merely the slightest bit and froze as her eyes slowly moved over each and every bit of packaged Zyklon B. Cans upon cans of the deadly gas packaged in large boxes, scattered around the entirety of the train car - it was sickening and to Natia it always was. 

Every member of the Resistance knew of what was happening to many of their people in those camps, their final hours thought of as a cool shower but instead replaced by a suffocating death. Tricking people into their death was cruel, something this cruel world was capable of - yet it was not right. But there were too many things that weren't right in this world.

" What do you see?" Zofia called, stepping closer to press up against the edge of the train car opening.

" It's all boxes - boxes of the Zyklon B." Natia said, her voice trembling slightly, as her eyes continued to push deeper and deeper, finding more and more. 

This was going to be used to kill humans, simple human beings. 

This was going to be used to kill. Her stomach turned into a sour knot, and for a split second she was nauseous. Natia moved deeper into the portion of the train car and then sighed to herself, hoping her heart would somehow calm itself. Natia turned and glanced back towards the darkened shadows of Zofia and Ryzshard outside the train car, standing and awaiting Natia's words.

" Nat?" Ryzshard's voice called to her and Natia had to clear her throat to get rid of the sickening feeling in her chest. 

" Let's start unloading," she said, ignoring the quivering concern that fluctuated inside his voice, or the way his eyes seemed to read her own like it were an open book. 

Siblings did that. 

Even when you didn't want them to - one look and it was like you had just taken the world's knowledge and inserted it quiet literally into your own mind. 

By 5 o'clock the following morning, the Zyklon B had been moved to the vehicle that would work as a transport. A group of their Resistance fighters had engaged in a crossfire down the railroad aways to hold off a company of Nazis for the time being that had heard the explosion and were getting contacts from the port that the train had yet to make its arrival. The train would never arrive at that station again. 

So with some members engaged in fire, the trio and a small group that had driven the large truck through to Dresden had moved all the Zyklon B and was now on its way to dispose of it in the open burn pits that they had vicariously scattered about different areas of Poland, Czechoslovakia and parts of Germany, right near the borders. 

And the 'getting-rid' of Zyklon B and the sort of gas that it was, was even more dangerous - toxins were deadly. But Cezar would be there, he had managed his own transport from Teplice with Dwad and Angelika in tow after they moved the people from the train car there in the Underground where other Resistance members were currently - armed and at the ready. 

And Cezar was quick to move around and dispose of the deadly gas. He was sure good at his job - it's a wonder he managed to pay such articulate attention to his work and manage to not blow himself up in the process. 

By that evening, back in Warsaw, moving under the cover of night, with the people from the train car in their secret location in Teplice, the Zyklon B on the carts discarded, and the massive amount of fine weaponry now in the arms of the Polish Resistance, there was a new found relief and joy - more weapons meant better protection against the devilish Nazis and their impending thirst for power to be dwindled down quite a bit, watered down if you will, like a solution. 

That evening, on one of the rare occasions where the Resistance managed such drinks, Natia sat just under the cover of the Underground, feet kicked up on an old barrel, taking sips from the slightly chilled beer bottle that lay in her grasp, her head giving a slight dull, pound every once and a while, as she continued to watch the outside world remain untouched by the inside world. 

Natia held the tiny picture of her parents in her grasp, her eyes studying each and every bit of them as she sat there, wishing they could've seen just the smallest efforts of the Resistance, the tiny bouts of rebel that infiltrated the Nazi ranks, upending them in anyway they could to resist the greater evil. 

Because each and every ounce of resistance was something and not many people remember that. They had saved more lives than ever and in too many different ways to count by stopping that train, including each and every bit that lead right up to it. 

But it was worth it, each and every bit of Resistance to an evil like that, because it was War. 

And War never completed his duty without Death at his side - what a stupid pact. 

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H I S T O R I C A L N O T E S

>> Clearly discussed, this is the major event the last number chapters mainly lead up to in this story - a major event that the Polish Resistance group performed many times during the course of the war. This was just one of the many acts of sabotage that this Resistance movement took to defeat the Nazis in anyway they could - as you can see, the effort it takes to complete as task such as this is HIGHLY intricate and difficult but could be completed and successful! 

> Open burn pits were an easy way to get rid of toxic gases such as Zyklon B during the time period. Many of these burn pits existed out on the outskirts in rural areas or near the borders. Here, Cezar is said to do the same, as he works heavily with explosives and is skilled enough to know how to get rid of them. 

A / N 

_hello AH OMG!!! you all don't know how happy i am to be here for another upload of this story omg i'm truly having so much fun writing it and seeing your reactions!! it's great - we're barely even touching the tip of the iceberg with natia along with her character and her relationships and plot lines - I'M SO HYPE!! in more exciting news - since TSOS and AAPA are officially done updates, i'm hoping in the month of december to get out a chapter on **tuesdays** as well!! of course when i can LOL but i'm hoping that maybe it'll be fun and to meet the boys before the new year! <3 thank you all so much for reading and enjoying - it means the world!! enjoy!_


	12. Salt to the Sea

**_INTRODUCING: Julian Morris as Zdzis_ ** _**ł** _ **_aw de Ville or 'Zdzich'_ **

" Like salt to the sea, he became a part of my life."

_\- Raresoul_

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_**August 10th, 1944 - Studzianki, Poland** _

_**South of Warsaw, Poland** _

_**1400** _

_**10 days since the Warsaw Uprising began** _

" Roger, Roger."

" Felicjan, focus, Jesus Christ." 

Natia felt her head might explode, placing a tender finger on the bridge of her nose in complete and utter disappointment. Between Felicjan and Franciszek and the absolute nonsense bickering they'd be on about for the past month, it was nearly enough to make her jump off a cliff. But they had a right to be tense - Franciszek especially. He had enough stress riding atop his shoulders from the past week and nearly the entire past month to last him a lifetime. Felicjan was just...well he was annoying sometimes, but he tried to have fun and sometimes fun wasn't even enough at this point. 

July 31st had been quite the rude awakening. W-hour had been an even harsher awakening. But it was time to reclaim back what was theirs - the Nazis occupied Poland but they were not Poles, they were not the citizens of Poland that had lived under their power for 5 years. They were angry and fed up citizens ready to wage war for as long as they needed to win back their home. 

Natia had been getting a proper shower for the first time in weeks, actually bathing, scrubbing her body clean of whatever particles had managed to cling onto her body, actually brush a comb through her hair - only to have Dwad race in at 2300 and start yelling about mobilization. And Natia of course had frozen solid as if she were a popsicle. And then it was like she were under the sun again, melting, fully coming to the realization of what Dwad had meant. 

The Home Army was mobilized - and their plan was moving into action. An Uprising strong enough to overturn an entire city had begun that evening and nearly only almost a week later, Warsaw was in ruins, Nazis, Soviets and scattered Polish forces around the rubble, weapons, explosives and snooty faced enemies lurked at every turn. It was no longer safe to come above ground for too long. 

Their very own Polish 1st Armored Brigade along with the Red Army's 2nd Guards Tank Army were currently engaged in Studzianki in a offensive with elements of the German 9th Army - but it was the Uprising, you couldn't expect the enemy on either side to falter. 

Fighting with baited breath, and crimson blood, no one would be left alive, just corpses with tattered souls. 

The Warsaw Uprising was the most engagement the group had come in contact with in their 5 years of service to the great nation of Poland. 

Natia had already taken her chances with being a SOE Agent, with being a Cichociemni paratrooper, and with being a good soldier - all 3 of those were somewhat clogged in a drain at this point, yet they still remained a part of her. They always would be. 

Natia was one to not fear Death - she never would fear Death - she had grown use to his lumbering presence for the past 5 years, where he'd put a hand on her shoulder with each and every motive she took, telling her that if she were to misstep, it'd be okay and he'd take her into his grasp. She'd grown quite use to it, too. Natia had even witnessed Death and his work that he took up with pride. It was his duty and he took it like a daily job, like a baker baking bread - Death took his job up like most others - he had grown numb to it too. 

Death had been there when Natia had stood by and watched Franz Kutschera lose his life by the hands of the Home Army on order of Fieldorf apart of Operation Kutschera, even better known as Operation Heads. She remembered how quickly his life had slipped into Death's hands, his fate now falling with Death itself and slowly flying away again - soon to return when more lives would soon be lost. 

Natia remembered the gentle hand on her shoulder, by Death's grasp himself as she put a bullet in a man's head, his life being collected up again by Death like it were rolling a snow ball. Natia remembered the absolutely horrific, hollow feeling that had pulsed through her entire body, igniting her like a match. The realization of how easy life can be taken from a human. And how horrific it was to live with that.

" Hey," a voice said and Natia's head shot up, meeting the eyes of Zdzisław de Ville. Zdzich had been her partner for the past month, after the Jędruise had returned from a mission out in Greece. His Polish version of the M1918 BAR lay in his grasp under the cover of the late morning sun, hidden in the thick bushes of the nearby town, his eyes piercing green through the already dark green foliage. 

" Sorry," Natia whispered - she had to stop saying sorry. She cleared her throat. 

Sometimes her mind got sidetracked and then by getting sidetracked, she no longer focused on the initial goal until she was called back into action. 

Zdzich was the one that really brought her back into reality now more than ever - a move of Komorowski she presumed, to keep her focused and not dazing off distractedly more than she needed. 

Back in June, early June, on one of the warmer nights, the Underground had managed a nice welcoming back for the Jędruise, and of course there was drinks, smoking and celebrations. Zdzich had approached the mysterious woman propped up in the corner away from the general group, a watchful look in his eye, studying her figure, which remained standoffish and guarded compared to the rest of the rather relaxed members of the group. 

Natia never let herself relax - she always was on high alert. The first words spoken between two had been rather interesting. 

Natia had slowly sipped the warm beer, watching the mysterious brown-eyed man approach her with a smoke on his lip and drink between his fingers, nearly finished. Natia had watched him with a cautious eye, as if she were dissecting him like he were a science experiment. 

The way he wore his coat, his hair, the weapon over his shoulder, the way his eyes remained on hers, the hesitant steps towards her figure, the way he remained rather standoffish himself.

" Zdzisław de Ville, pleasure." Zdzich said as he approached, giving her a quiet nod, as she slowly nodded herself, not moving her eyes from his figure either. 

" Natia Filipska." she answered coolly, refusing to move her eyes from his - if she did, then he would see her exposed vulnerability, the concern, the standoffish radiation that shot out like sun rays. She never allowed anyone to see what was underneath the mask upon her face.

" A Flip Sibling?" he asked her, his eyes searching hers. She nodded slowly.

" Agent Fidel." he stated and Natia nodded slowly.

" Correct - of Churchill's Army." she answered, " But that's in the past, and I haven't used Agent Fidel in quite some time." 

" Why?" The question was a tough topic - ever since General Rowecki was taken because they weren't cautious enough she had been under Agent Fidel - and she hadn't been faithful - and that had gotten him captured and most likely killed. She had only recently decided to use Agent Fidel again, but the question put her off yet again.

" I'd rather stay away from such a topic if you don't mind." she answered briefly, giving off the tension that radiated like the waves of the ocean - a firm idea to never bring up the subject again. Zdzich slowly nodded again, dipping his head briefly to sip from his bottle of beer, swallowing thickly. 

" You have a sister? Klimeck?" Zdzich asked the woman. Natia nodded.

" She's up on board with many of our leaders, she rotates a lot, but she seems to be the only one with brains up there at the moment." Natia said bitterly, her eyes turning stone like and emotionless. 

" It's not exactly societal norms per say?" Zdzich said, raising a brow and Natia smirked at him. Even if he were making it like a compliment, Natia was not finished. 

" The least of your concerns in this world should be societal norms," Natia said, watching him, confused to see as if he were joking. Zdzich watched her.

" The world is crazy - we are waging war with the biggest evils in most of our lifetimes - I'm pretty sure the most adamant thing is survival at the moment - not whether you are a man or woman." Natia said to answer his completely confused look that settled deep into her heart. Zdzich was quiet, actually watching with quite a curious look in his eyes.

" In a war where we fight evil there is no man or woman, you are either the ally or the enemy, you choose." she said, before slowly pulling up the beer to her lips, her unwavering gaze refusing to leave his own. Zdzich watched her, and then slowly smirked. 

From that moment forward, Zdzich had never brought up the conversation again - Natia was intimidating enough - the entire squad of Flip Siblings were, as well as their group of friends. He never squandered again with the young woman, and because of that, because the two had settled it in that very moment, had become close partners within a month. 

And it was because of that simple conversation that on July 1st at 1700 they had become even closer bonded together as one. 

Sometimes you needed to be put up against your equal and actually have a conversation instead of accepting ignorance. They were equals - gender nor age didn't matter - they were equal. 

And something Natia didn't expect from Zdzich within her first moments of meeting him was that he would be as faithful and trustworthy as he was. The complete opposite of herself. And yet he still stayed. 

So, there they were. The Warsaw Uprising underway, the harshest and most cruel parts yet to arrive. Natia quickly took the radio from her side and brought it up to her lips where she had silenced both Franciszek and Felicjan.

" Have you two stopped bickering yet? Zdzich and I need updates, you're the ones safe Underground, we're the ones that could have a bullet in our heads in a mere minute." she said coldly through the radio, her eyes looking down into the valley of the town below. Zdzich watched quietly from beside her, fiddling a bit with the strap on his weapon and Natia sighed, licking her lips, as she impatiently waited for an answer. 

" Thank you for reminding me," Felicjan called back and Natia sighed shaking her head.

" Whatever, we're all gonna die one day, just not today. So, please, updates." she said and she heard Zdzich chuckle from beside her. 

" Right," Felicjan said clearing his throat, " the Germans captured Grabnowola. Just in last night. Now I know you've been camped out for quite some time, but don't let that get to you - just in, Kaja's working on coordinates, she's been up all night, but you'll be able to move soon, I promise."

" Continue," Natia urged again and then clicked off glancing at Zdzich who sighed, eyes on the radio. They'd been up all night, listening to the sounds of the Nazis below - it had been a sleepless night, lying beside one another in the lukewarm air. 

" Now they're attempting to push forward, to destroy some of the elements of the Red Army that are moving through. The 3rd Tank Company is currently moving forward as scheduled. You can continue your move forward once Kaja locks in her coordinates." Felicjan called through the radio, a few clicking sounds moving through the short static.

" That's it?" Natia asked through the radio.

" At the moment, Flip." Felicjan said and Natia sighed with a soft nod to herself.

" Thanks Felicjan, I....I, uh, I appreciate it." Natia's words were gentle for once - she truly did mean it. 

" You know you can count on me, Flip, I'll click back when I get more information." he said and Natia smiled softly. Then they clicked off. Natia slowly let her hand drop into the grass again. 

Just 2 months ago, the Americans, the British and the Canadians had finally landed upon the beaches. Franciszek had been in a secret Underground village with the Maquis at the time, as preparations began for the Warsaw Uprising, when news broke and he radioed back to Felicjan and Kaja. 

It was called D-Day - a rather fascinating name that Natia could not seem to discover the context for. But the Americans after 5 years, along with their Allies had finally touched the French coastline - a sliver of hope - a sliver of slight anger and bitterness. It had taken 5 years but they had finally landed upon the beach and opened up a two front war. 

Why had it taken as long as it had? 

Natia would never know. The only thing that was important now was that maybe, just maybe they could assist the Poles and that they could stop the Germans from fully taking over their great city of Warsaw. And maybe have the Red Army cooperate fully this time. Who knew with war though. 

Natia met Zdzich's eyes and within a moment he had read them and sighed, turning his gaze forward again. Natia watched his jaw clench, exhaustion riddling his entire body. But they were both tired - 9 days into the biggest battle in their lifetimes and they were exhausted from even just one night of no sleep.

" We won't be moving until tomorrow I'm assuming, unless we manage locked in coordinates." Zdzich said, casting a gentle glance her way and Natia slowly nodded.

" Yeah that's basically what they're saying. Unless things are locked in, we're not moving." Natia said and Zdzich sighed and nodded. 

The two of them were exhausted under the warm sun through the tree leaves, their gear sticky and intoxicating on their bodies, their weapons slippery in their grasps, beads of perspiration trailing down their cheeks. 

Natia's head was pounding from her lack of water - and Zdzich had reminded her last night to bring a canteen of water and she had all but refused to throw it in the bag as she left with him. And now, she couldn't help but let her eyes travel over to his own canteen which lay propped up right beside him. 

She did have to admit - she couldn't keep track of her own self at times, and having someone like Zdzich with her was what she needed - but admitting that to him? She refused. Refused to admit that it was nice to have someone there willing to consistently be of help and who genuinely cared - even with just 2 months of working together. 

Surviving Death more times than once caused that.

" Nat," Zdzich whispered, his eyes meeting hers again as she softly glanced his way, " you want a drink?" His eyes were gentle, pleading that she would just willingly take a sip from his canteen. He had tried all day and night and now with morning fresh on the face, she still refused to take his drink. 

Natia told herself that Zdzich needed it more - she regarded herself as nothing more a single speck on the Earth, she was not as important as Zdzich was in the realm of the Resistance. Her death wouldn't mean much. Zdzich's eyes were softer than the others eyes she had watched before and it caused her to force herself to look away, swallowing slightly as her stomach grew uneasy on the weapon.

" You need to drink something, Nat. Dehydration leads to exhaustion, fatigue, delusion, you need to drink something." Zdzich urged her again and Natia softly sighed to herself again. She was quiet, watching from the corner of her eye as Zdzich slowly leaned back a bit and unscrewed the top of the canteen and offered it towards her, the slight sloshing of water inside, emitting outwards. Zdzich was everything she was not and the single offer of water showed it. 

Zdzich always offered her his extra leftovers and she always refused. Zdzich always took watch all night, risking sleep for her. Zdzich always took lead in front of her so that if he were shot, she would be able to complete the mission. Zdzich always said it was because out of the two, she was the best for the mission, any mission that entailed the two. And now with the Uprising, he was willing to risk himself even more. 

And Natia wasn't used to someone quite literally risking themselves for someone like herself. It was an odd feeling, to be told to go to sleep and that she would be looked over by someone who cared. For 5 years, she hadn't ventured outside of her main group of friends and siblings into the trusting realm of an outside member but Zdzich was different. 

Sure, they had a slightly rocky start, but Natia trusted him. And she had never in her life trusted anyone as fast as she had, especially someone like Zdzich. His eyes were convincing enough, for her trembling fingers to reach forward and take the canteen in her hands and then softly sigh again.

" Drink Nat, I won't move from this spot until you've taken your fill, alright?" he said, before genuinely smiling. Natia liked his smile - he had a nice smile, like Father's. And he still smiled a real smile. Natia always guessed when she had last smiled a genuine smile, but she had stopped doing that a few years ago, it was no use. 

But Zdzich's smile was always genuine with anyone and everyone. Albeit, his asshole-like motives sometimes were well, very much asshole like, but looking back his motives were genuine and usually his asshole moves were because he heard someone talking bad about another and was in his own way trying to defend them. He had ended up with a bruised finger - he still liked to complain to Natia that he couldn't fire the gun fast enough and usually she smacked his shoulder shaking her head. 

Natia softly pulled the canteen to her lips and once the cold liquid passed through her lips, she immediately started gulping it down. She hadn't realized how thirsty she had actually been, but by now she knew she was more than dehydrated. 9th day of the Uprising and she was nearly half-corpse. But she had been a corpse for far longer. The second she had pulled the canteen away she found Zdzich watching her with a smirk.

" I told you that you should've grabbed that canteen." he said softly as she rolled her eyes - an excuse to truly ignore the relief it was to take a sip of water on her parched throat. 

" If I had grabbed it then I wouldn't have been able to steal your own." she said and Zdzich chuckled softly in the sweet-smelling grass bathed by war.

" Feel better now?" he asked her and Natia nodded hesitantly. 

" We'll call it that," she said with an even nod, letting her head, slowly fall to the cheek resting-area on her submachine gun, " stuck in war, I mean. It's the best I can be." Zdzich snickered.

" Well now I'm depressed." Zdzich muttered, wiping at the sweat on his brow and Natia sighed.

" Positivity's hard to come by after 5 years at war, you can't expect much else from me." she said sourly, suddenly disgusted at her own mood. Zdzich was being fun for once and she had to be acting like she were a sour potato.

" Sorry," she said and then let her eyes shut for a moment. Zdzich watched the woman almost worriedly and licked his lips before softly crawling in beside her, keeping that distance barrier between them - touch was a no-no - but his presence was comfort enough. 

Zdzich slowly glanced towards her through the grass and watched with persistent eyes, just like back in Germany when the two had been moving through the Alps on their way to spy on Heydrich - it had been quite the adventure together. 

His eyes didn't change. 

Natia's did. 

Natia watched him.

" Axe, hoe, moonshine, drinking glass..." Zdzich started to sing quietly and the tiniest smile found it's way onto Natia's face. 

Song. 

Music. 

Music she had refused to let herself enjoy for years. 

The Polish Resistance was built upon the morals of this song really, and everything that this song even dared speak about - a rebel song, a song of alliance of the true horror of what Warsaw and Poland and all cities of the great nation alike suffered greatly.

" Day's łapanka, at night air-raid.." she sang lightly, snickering to herself when Zdzich smirked.

" Axe, hoe, lights on, AC current, when will they get out of here!" Zdzich sang with a grin and Natia couldn't help but chuckle.

" That won't work every time, but kudos to you because it did today." she said as Zdzich grinned, moving his head forward to look ahead through the grass, a cool breeze racing overtop of them in the sunlight, a quiet rustle of the leaves entering the sound waves in their ears. 

" You have a nice voice, Zdzich." Natia said, " It reminds me of my father's." Zdzich slowly glanced towards her, watching her softly as she spoke, suddenly vulnerable, all her barriers stripped down and pushed away.

" You don't talk about your parents much." Zdzich said, " Sure I know others like Angelika, Dwad and you know, the rest of the lot, know, but otherwise you never talk about them." Natia slowly glanced towards him and sighed softly. 

" The Nazis took more than they should've." Natia said quietly, refusing to move her gaze from its focused position in front of herself. 

They had taken happiness, her parents along with it and the thrill of piano keys and the tune of music to follow. It barely dented her battered heart. 

Zdzich watched her - he knew from that simple sentence. 

Many of the members of organizations under the Government in Exile of Poland, which was housed in London, were simply just that - orphans - people who had no home and no parents to come home to at night. They just had each other. Those that still had their parents alive had smuggled them away to Switzerland or had seen them be taken away to the camps. You could only assume Death met them not long after.

" Yeah they did." Zdzich answered with a nod, his jaw clenching further - out of spite, anger, disgust. Natia sighed.

" For quite an asshole, you sure do flip a switch don't ya?" Natia asked him and Zdzich genuinely laughed out loud.

" I wasn't always, but I'd say in the beginning of this, it was the only way to get by. Stone faced and cold-hearted, the best medicine for the enemy." Zdzich said and Natia watched him.

" The world see us differently," Natia said quietly, a quiet chirp from a cricket echoing nearby," but I think a war makes us the same." In that moment, no words could ever complete a comment as such as that. 

" Zucchini, Flip - Polish 3rd Tank Co is on the move, I'd head down there now to make sure they make contact in the village." Felicjan called through the radio and Natia mentally cursed herself at the comment.

" You gonna keep calling me that?" Zdzich said taking the radio from Natia's grasp and holding it to his mouth.

" No, I'm just hungry." he argued back, " I haven't left the desk all day alright, and a group of stupid fucking Nazis just wandered down into the Underground - Angelika obliterated them and then went and started a charge on them. There's heavy fighting just outside. Are we even surprised? But in short, no, I'm hungry."

" Thanks," Zdzich said with a sarcastic laugh, " does Kaja have the coordinates?"

" Yes she does," Felicjan answered, reading them out, " 52 degrees, 14 minutes, 13.3764 seconds North, latitude. 21 degrees, 1 minute, 3.1152 seconds East, longitude, from Warsaw." Natia pulled a stubborn, scrap piece of paper from her pocket and pressed it down into the grass to slowly scrawl the coordinates across it in sloppy handwriting - not too sloppy though, she could still read it as if it were neat.

" Gotcha." she called through the radio, " Um, Felicjan?" 

" Yep." he answered, the crackling of the static on the other side, humming quietly.

" How are they? All of you actually....you all doing okay?" she managed out, her mind moving to her siblings and friends on the other side. 

" Yeah, they're fine, don't worry, Klimeck's doing a good job back here - she's been prepping each group that heads out. Ry's been good as well, a lunatic at points, the boy blew up a Nazi truck the other day with one of Cezar's explosives, you know the fireball ones, it was like fireworks, but I guess he just likes seeing stuff blow. Everyone's been fine though, really, I wouldn't lie about that." Felicjan said and Natia chuckled on the line.

" Thanks," she said gently through the radio, " I appreciate it." 

" Ah don't worry about it, least I could do." he said and Natia softly grinned at the radio as if Felicjan were right beside her, " I'll let you two go now, be safe." Be safe. 2 simple words that could be someone's last.

" We will," Natia said and then the radio clicked off. Natia slowly glanced towards Zdzich and he nodded. Natia rolled to her side, slowly clipping the radio in its place, before carefully looping the binoculars that Zofia had quite literally ripped from a Nazi's grasp before knocking him out, around her hands and slowly pulling it up in front of her brown eyes. 

" What do you see?" Zdzich asked from beside her and Natia squinted a bit to get a better vision.

" Not much movement quite yet." she answered, " Maybe a few bits of infantry far below, but that's quite a few hundred yards away, and the Tank Company is still rolling in from the North. Oh wait-"

" Shit, fuck, what now?"

" Movement, from the south - looks like German - oh shit Panzers - yep it's gotta be." her words were jumbled, rather chaotic, practically everywhere, too many things were happening and they were all happening at once.

" Well it's our lucky day," Zdzich said as Natia zeroed in on what exactly he was about to say," the Soviets are pulling in, right in front of us."

" This won't end well." she muttered, watching the beginnings of a Soviet tank Company, across the entire town up in the hills, beginning to make their shiny appearance under the sun. Natia leaned back and looked up towards Zdzich who crouched beside her, eyes squinted under the sunlight, his tanned skin, golden in the rays. 

" And Radio Boy wants us running straight in there-"

" A death wish I should assume-"

" He always wants a death wish." 

That settled it - packing up their gear and lifting it onto their backs, weapons were pulled into clammy hands, before magazines were swiped inside and triggers were dancing with fingers. Crouched side by side, Natia could hear their heavy breathing of the rushed frenzy, encircling them like perfume.

" Shall we begin?" she asked him, cocking her head in his direction as Zdzich squinted again.

" Yeah," he said, clenching his jaw again, as he positioned himself up further into a more crouched position, " cover me." 

And with that he was off down the grassy and tree-filled hillside, disappearing over the edge into the sloping valley of the town under the sun. Natia slowly approached the edge, weapon comfortably fitted within her grasp, as her eyes narrowed, following Zdzich down the grassy slope. She watched him crouch low in the ground - a brief pause in his quick movements before continuing on again through the bushes and high grass, his field cap hopping on his head quite a bit as he did so. 

Natia watched as he began moving North, head turning to take a glance over his shoulder every so often before picking up his pace through the hillside. The minute he reached the tree that they had scoped out yesterday, he dropped quickly to the ground and even from as far away as he was, Natia felt he looked into his very soul. 

Clear. 

Natia slowly slid the binoculars around her neck, before bringing her weapon up again and hopping off down the slope. Her feet quickly bumped against the Earth with each bit of dirt she moved against. The sun slowly moved out from behind the cloud and suddenly she was sweating more, and she felt like bugs were everywhere and her vision became disoriented. She should've grabbed the damn canteen. 

The town of Studzianki lay oddly quiet - but it was the quiet before the storm. The grass tickled through her uniform, and her boots squished in the fresh sodden mud from a light drizzle at 0300 that morning. Natia's eyes though never moved from the outline of the city to her right, running through the grass closer and closer to Zdzich who waited like a statue by the tree, watching the city, the tree line, the large hill they had just descended down and Natia. Natia kept her pace quick and quiet and stealthy before she approached Zdzich and the tree. 

Moving under the cover of the large leaves she crouched right beside him, sucking in a shaky breath as she dug into her pocket to pull out the map.

" Here we are." she said, her finger pointing to a spot to the West of Studzianki, " Polish 3rd is coming down from the North, which is where we'll then make our impending escape back to Warsaw. The Soviets, like we saw are already coming in from the East and the Nazis have moved their tanks from the South - basically we have a city surrounded and if we can fight them in the streets, our ratio is 2:1, we got a chance of coming out on top here." Zdzich nodded and glanced over his shoulder licking his lips, a smirk broadening on his cheeks, the dimple popping out with the grin.

" This is exactly like one of the maneuvers we took back in Greece." Zdzich said, " Except well we were the ones surrounded on three sides, but we managed to come out on top."

" It's a miracle you have all your fingers and toes." Natia said and Zdzich smirked.

" Yeah, well, I thought you didn't believe in those things." Zdzich said and Natia chuckled.

" I don't. Come on, asshole." she said and Zdzich let out a chuckle before following her away and towards the Northern part of the city. The Polish 3rd Tank Company would lie in wait, and so would their revenge on the Nazis. 

Natia and Zdzich approached the awaiting tank battalion by 1100, and it looked as if they were bathing under the hot, scolding sun, roasting like peppers. And when they approached a familiar face suddenly came into view and a wide smile broke onto Natia's cheeks.

" Franciszek!" Natia called and the minute he heard his name, the French and Polish radio operator turned and smirked.

" Was wondering when you two would finally show." he said and Natia let out a laugh as Zdzich snickered from her side.

" Yeah well, Felicjan was complaining about how hungry he was, so we would've been here sooner if it wasn't for him." Natia explained and Franciszek chuckle.

" Right," Franciszek said, a dashing smile on his lips, " meet Captain Jozef Bartko, running with members of the Polish 3rd Tank Company, he'll be your contact for when you lead the way to the town before moving back into Warsaw, supposedly there's been a rumbling back in town, so I'd make this quick." Natia nodded and then looked up towards the Captain sat atop the tank, smoking a cigarette with a grin on his face.

" Agent Fidel, it's a pleasure." he said, as Natia climbed up onto the hot tank, to shake his hand firmly with a nod.

" Pleasure to be here and fighting for Poland, sir." she said and the Captain grinned, popping the smoke from his lip and offering her a puff which she took with greed. Intoxicating her lungs with the pillowing smoke was enough to drug her for the remainder of the day.

" So, enlighten me Fidel, what's coming for me and my boys?" he asked her and Natia smiled gracefully up towards him.

" From the South, you have a battalion of German tanks - Panzers if I were to elaborate and from the East - the Red Army, with their own battalion of tanks. Ratio seems to be 2:1, and even though they just took Grabnowola the previous evening, they're battered, I assure you, you could move through the town and push them back as far as you need." Natia affirmed and the Captain nodded.

" Any resistance?" he asked her.

" The only resistance they'll be getting is the Polish Resistance, sir. I can assure you, they'll retreat. They may be the enemy, but they'll give up easily when they discover what they did for the last town won't quite work here." she explained with a nod and the Captain grinned, a chuckle falling from his lips.

" You're an intelligent young woman, no wonder you Flip Children get done what you do." he said and Natia chuckled softly.

" We try, sir." she said and the Captain nodded.

" The Polish citizens always do." he agreed with her and Natia couldn't help but grin proudly. 

The Poles were prideful - even after 5 years of war, you had to be, no matter how shattered your insides were - an enemy couldn't see that. Her salute was that of origin to her honor and her fatherland, her two fingers, index and middle saluting her higher up. The Captain gave the salute right back. Nodding with a grin, she jumped off the tank and moved back over towards Zdzich and Franciszek when the Captain held his hand up to the tank driver and nodded to him.

" Hey, Fidel." he called leaning forward and Natia turned her gaze up towards him.

" Yes, sir." she said.

" You and your friend here have done quite enough for us, head back to Warsaw - we know that you can assist even more back in the center of the Uprising. Fight well for Poland, she looks upon you." he said and Natia smiled softly glancing at Zdzich out of the corner of her eye. He grinned.

" Yes, sir." she called back and Captain Jozef Bartko nodded with a grin.

" Onward, men! We have Nazis to scorch like rods of lightening!" he called, exuberant, excitement leaving his lips as the tanks rumbled by, the Earth below their feet shaking as they rolled past. 

With narrowed eyes, binoculars and a weapon strapped around her shoulder, sweat crawling it's way from under her field cap, she watched vehicle after vehicle of Polish military equipment roll past, power with each grind of the Earth. 

Franciszek, Natia and Zdzich watched the tanks roll down the dirt road, billowing under the sun, sweat on their cheeks. Stolen tanks from the enemy themselves, but that made it all the more fun didn't it? 

As the last tank left the premise towards Studzianki, Natia stepped forward before turning to the two, a smirk on her face.

" Warsaw." she said with a nod to Zdzich," You coming, Francis?" 

" Figured I can't leave Felicjan up there for too long, I'm assuming - of course he's got Kaja, but...yeah I'm coming with." Franciszek said and both Zdzich and Natia chuckled, as the trio moved toward one of the Underground passage ways that led towards the inner Underground. 

War would greet them with a smile upon his lips, eyes glowing like embers - he had that effect. 

｡↷ ✧*̥₊˚‧☆ﾐ

H I S T O R I C A L N O T E S

> The Battle of Studzianki, which included the Polish 1st Armored Brigade, the Red Army 2nd Guard Tank Army and the German 9th Army, was a battle that occurred in Studzianki, Poland during the Warsaw Uprising lasting from August 9th, 1944 to August 16th, 1944. This event is what Natia and Zdzich are currently observing. 

> This is the start of the introduction to the Warsaw Uprising which was one of the major Resistance-based World War II operations of the time. Occurring in the summer of 1944, and lasting from August 1st, 1944 to October 2nd, 1944, it was waged by the Polish underground resistance and heavily lead by the Polish Home Army (AK) to liberate Warsaw from German occupation. The uprising was timed to coincide with the retreat of the German forces from Poland ahead of the Soviet advance.

> The term W-hour that Natia mentions, is the codename used for the date and time for Operation Tempest, the Operation which began the Warsaw Uprising, in German-occupied Warsaw. The time that this occurred exactly was 5:00 PM, August 1st, 1944. 

> Operation Heads was the codename for the series of assassinations of Nazi officials by the Polish Resistance throughout the entirety of World War II. The Nazi officials who ended up getting targeted were sentenced to death by Polish Underground Special Courts for any crimes that had been committed against Polish citizens during the German-occupation of Poland during the war. Operation Kutschera occurred on February 1st, 1944 when Franz Kutschera was assassinated as SS and Police Leader of the Warsaw District. 

> Zdzisław 'Zdzich' de Ville was an actual partisan during World War 2, who was in the Jędruise - a form of fighters in the Polish Resistance, and who fought in the war. There is very little information about him, but I took an image and crafted a character from him that I was beyond excited to share with you all today!! AND YES - he fought with the Polish version of the M1918 BAR, a real weapon, modified by the Resistance. 

> It is TRUE that on the 9th of August, 1944 - the Polish town of Grabnowola was in fact captured. AND - the coordinates that Felicjan spoke of were actual coordinates.

> The song Zdzich sings which eventually Natia joins in with is translated to"Axe, Hoe" and was a famous Polish military and street-level protest song from the war. It became the most popular song of occupied Warsaw, and then, of the entire occupied Poland. 

A / N 

_HELLO! And welcome to the Warsaw Uprising portion of this fic, I am so excited to finally introduce it after leading up to it with the first 10 chapters! There's a lot of historical notes at the bottom of this AND the next chapter - YEP (double update lol!!). Consider these next two weeks my early Christmas present to you all - if you want, check out my message board, there's updates with my schedule the next two weeks - BUT we meet the boys December 11th, you don't want to miss out!! :) I am so excited for these next few chapters, they are truly so much fun and enticing and were a pleasure to write. Thank you all for the journey so far, and I'm so excited to keep it going!! <3 _

_And I just have to say - thank you to everyone who comments or gives kudos or reads - it means the world to me and you readers aren't told that enough - I can't thank you enough for the kudos you give or the beautiful comments you leave me that make me so happy or even giving my story a shot - so thank you. You all deserve to be told that more often so I'm here to tell you now from a writer and author - thank you. I see you and I appreciate you - you're always welcome to leave it, I'll be happy to hang around!! <3_


	13. The Masks of Vulnerability

" He composed himself inwardly. Sparing the world his awkwardness, hiding vulnerability. Preserving his pride."

_\- Julie Anne Long_

｡↷ ✧*̥₊˚‧☆ﾐ

**_Warsaw, Poland - Headquarters - August 10th, 1944_ **

**_1600_ **

**_10 days since the Uprising_ **

So far, each and every day in the Uprising had been the same - a few days had been normal, sneaking around for a few samplings of food in the early hours of the morning, until the Nazis began their rampant fire and Death would peer around a corner, silencing the screams of the innocent. He had that affect. It was quite the system. Other days had been sleepless, in firefights throughout the early hours of morning, hiding behind wooden barriers throughout Warsaw, Nazi tanks roaming the roads, curled under cover for hours.

" We're back!" Natia called as she pushed back the cloth curtain as they stepped into the dimly lit Underground bunker. 

" Nat!' Ryzshard called, his voice popping out first out of the crowd. Natia's eyes lit up and within a second Ryzshard was flying into her arms.

Oh how good it felt to be hugged by your brother.

Natia wrapped her arms around him, nuzzling into his arms, hiding from the world for a moment, wishing to feel nothing but the familial touch of someone who loved her despite how war-ravaged her soul was. He smelled like a campfire almost, but even as a child he did - campfires were a nostalgia for a boy like himself.

" Natia!" a voice yelled excitedly and Natia pulled back from Ryzshard to see Klimeck hurrying forward to wrap Natia in a hug and Natia even let out a girlish giggle feeling the hug from her older sister in her arms. It felt like home.

Of course, she had no real home anymore, just a bunker with friends who had become family and her siblings. But Klimeck and Ryzshard always felt like family - anything they experienced, she experienced. Siblings had that sort of connection - and they all felt it.

Klimeck pulled back and gently put a gentle hand on Natia's cheek, a bright smile crossing her face, bright blue eyes lighting up like sparkling diamonds. Even in war she had flawless features, and a smile genuine enough like the flowers themselves. Klimeck softly reached up to cup her baby brother's cheek with a smile.

It was like for a moment, it was just the three of them, siblings again, with no war, not-orphaned, with nothing but their childhood antics. Ryzshard smiled at his sisters. And for a moment, there was no war in any of their heads. Ryzshard wished yet again he could be back in their home and be children again, cuddled up on the couch with mom and dad, listening to the radio, giggling and laughing under their blankets.

Ryzshard couldn't help but pull his sisters into his arms, as the world glowed around them, tiny little fires lit up around, cheers and drinks. A moment of peace in war, a rarity but it was needed.

" Well aren't you just Mr. Huggy Bear, Ry." Klimeck said pulling back to look up at him and Ryzshard chuckled. Mr Huggy Bear was their stuffed animal that always was in their bedroom that was usually passed around in the bedroom - a fluffy little guy. If there was a good hug, then they called it being a Mr. Huggy Bear. 

" Well, Dad's not here to give them, and well, you two deserve some hugs every once and a while don't ya?" he said and Klimeck grinned.

" You do too." she said and Ryzshard snickered. Klimeck had Dad's eyes, Ryzshard had Mom's - Natia had neither, the odd one out, but the family had always said Natia had the most beautiful, no matter the color of them. They all glowed the same. 

" I'm glad I made it back in time," Natia said softly," happy birthday, Ry." Ryzshard grinned and shrugged.

" 20 years on the big blue marble and it's like I was born yesterday." he said and the group of siblings chuckled together. 

" Hey, Ange!" Klimeck called to Angelika who was taking shots of vodka with Zofia, " We'll be back." Angelika threw up a thumbs-up and a smile. War did not reserve time for preservation, but the people could make it.

The Flip Siblings turned, arm in arm off towards the resting quarters - Ryzshard was turning 20. Natia could only hope that by 21, this war was over. The minute Klimeck draped the cloth down to the resting room, she turned and pulled a box out of its hiding spot and gently waved it in front of her face.

" Look what I got for you," she said with a grin spreading on her face as Ryzshard chuckled.

" You guys didn't need to get me anything, just being here with you is enough." Ryzshard said and Natia snorted.

" Yeah, yeah, enough with the bullshit, we know you're happy for a gift, be happy for it, it's okay." Natia said with a grin as Ryzshard smirked, taking the gift in his grasp. It wasn't a particularly large box, but it was big enough to know that what was inside was of importance.

Ryzshard slowly unwrapped it, the quiet hum of Cezar drunkly singing in the background with Dwad, a few cheers rumbling below. And almost immediately, Ryzshard's shoulders slumped and tears welled in his eyes. Klimeck bit back her lip and looked at her brother's quickly tear-filled eyes.

" It's Dad's." Ryzshard choked back, letting the faded wrapping paper drop to the ground as he unfolded Dad's sweater.

Natia looked down, as suddenly a tight squeeze twitched in her heart. Klimeck had told her how she had managed Dad's sweater. She had found it in the clothing deposit bin earlier this year, after search parties would go out and search through wreckage. His sweater had been there - on the breast, it had the tiny music note symbol that Klimeck had first practiced sewing on, sewed right onto it.

Natia looked up, biting back the slight tremble that gave in her lip as Ryzshard looked at the sweater, a soft tear trailing down his cheek. Klimeck watched Ryzshard, putting a trembling hand to her mouth as Ryzshard couldn't help but let a choked sob past his lips which caused Natia to shut her eyes.

She was not going to cry, she refused to cry, it only hurt more when she did.

Ryzshard had been a mere child when his father and mother were ripped from him and both Natia and Klimeck had seen it happen - it had destroyed them and had been what sent Natia spiraling into the numbness of Death's clasp.

Death was the only comfort now. His cowering eyes had stood just above her parents that evening - September 14th, 1939 - it was engraved into her brain just like the look his eyes had sent up into her veins. She remembered the feeling.

The Nazis hadn't seen Death watching their every move enter the home - but Natia had. He always showed a moment before tragedy - it was bad luck on his part, but Death was merely doing his job.

Sometimes Natia felt bad for Death and the pain he had to bare and how much he was despised. No one understood that it was his job to collect the dead and bare the pain so they living didn't have to. Natia understood.

Natia watched Ryzshard crumble, clutching their father's sweater to his chest, as he put a hand to his face, dry sobs leaving his throat. When Ryzshard cried, it hurt the most, more than anything because Ryzshard always was so strong, that when he broke it hurt. He only broke in front of his family, but it hurt Klimeck and Natia the most. To see the pain that Ryzshard built up in his gut and then let explode.

Klimeck softly stepped forward and reached up, wrapping her arms around her baby brother, as he didn't hesitate to collapse in her arms, sobbing into her shoulder, hiccuping gasps dancing past his lips to the outside world. He didn't like people seeing him cry, but in front of his sisters it was different. They were the only ones that had seen him cry.

Natia softly stepped forward and with a soft trembling lip, wrapped her arms around the both of them, which made Ryzshard wrap his arm around her shoulders and pull her even closer. Because in that moment, just like the past 5 years of their life, they were the only family they each had left.

But Natia, even with the sobs of her siblings, the heart-wrenching pain that infiltrated each of their cries, the yearning for the love of their mother and father, was not enough to strike the icy block in the center of her chest.

And for a moment, Natia let a single tear trail down her flushed cheek.

She was gone, she was too far gone - if she couldn't even cry over her deceased parents, there was no returning.

She had cried for weeks after it happened, after witnessing Death before her eyes, but years later she wouldn't cry, she couldn't.

Maybe Death's clasp was a safer escape and maybe this time unlike others he'd accept her back with open arms.

Natia let that tear trail down her cheek that night in front of her siblings, with pride. Because they cried for their parents and in that moment Natia was overwhelmed with the feeling that she was too far gone. There was no return for a monster like herself.

Dwad had been the one to bring a cup of hot tea and a blanket, finding the Flip Siblings all a rather distraught and emotional mess behind the cloth curtain. Dwad had always been a big brother to Ryzshard so it was no surprise that Ryzshard, with all his walls crumbled and broken, sat beside Dwad, letting Dwad hold him with a gentle arm wrapped over his shoulder, making sure he drank the tea the best he could.

Dwad had always been all of their big brother - and this war made it much more prominent. Klimeck and Natia passed their shared tea back and forth between shaken fingers as Klimeck couldn't move her gaze from Ryzshard.

" I didn't think I would cry like that ever again." Klimeck whispered as Ryzshard sipped his tea and coddled their Father's sweater close. Natia's heart ached at the mere image of her younger brother still only a child, even if he were turning 20. He was still so young.

" It hurts." Natia whispered, " All of it."

Knowing that your parents were killed because of their culture and that the enemy didn't want that spreading was sickening enough, but to have to quite literally race out of your house in the middle of the night, as bullets decorated the kitchen, with no idea where you were going or with absolutely no plan in motion and the new status of being an orphan on your shoulders, how we you supposed to feel?

They had been children, just teenagers wrapped up into a war fought by men who sat up in chairs and forced their minions to do the work. They were the cowards ordering around brainwashed fools on strings, hand feeding them the drugs to do what was ordered of them, what they couldn't do themselves.

Klimeck softly glanced at Natia and gently took her hand in her own, just like Mom used to. Mom would always gently trace your name in the palm of your hand, her voice gentle as she talked to you and soothed you, maybe even singing a song now that Natia had blocked from her memory - it was far too painful to even bring to the lips again. It was like when they were kids again, sitting by the piano, playing scales, harmonizing with one another, and being sent off into giggles yet again.

Those days were long gone.

" You doing okay?" Natia asked Klimeck. Klimeck nodded and gently smiled at Natia - just the other day, Klimeck had lost 3 young members of her platoon which she had let through Center Square on a flanking move against the Nazis and one of their Rifle Battalions. They had been children, but they had sacrificed themselves for Poland within the first 9 days of the biggest battle of their lives.

A harsh reminder that even the innocent died young and war was no exception to it all. War did not care that a child stood in the ruins, it would take and take and take until all the life were sucked from it.

War and Death even though enemies at times, worked begrudgingly hand in hand - War killed while Death took - the same job with similar burdens.

No wonder no one liked either of them very much - no one understood the immense pain both of them bore.

" I'll be okay," Klimeck said, her face saddening slightly as she let out a defeated sigh, " they were just children." Natia watched her sister with sad eyes.

" You ever wish the world wasn't like this?" Natia asked her - it was ideally a tough question.

" Yes and no."

A sin to even say but the cold-hard truth.

Klimeck always told the truth no matter what pain encased living with the truth.

" I hate that after 5 years we still have a war, in our country and nothing's changed, but then I would've never met any members of this group, who became our family." Klimeck said her wise eyes gazing into Natia's. Natia smiled sadly in the firelight. 

" Mom and Dad would be proud," Klimeck said, " for what we're doing in war, for what we've done." Natia nodded her head softly and then smiled at Klimeck.

" You remember when we were kids and we ended up running along the Wisla, flying those home made kits?" Natia asked her and Klimeck laughed, her eyes scrunching up at the corners, as she slapped her uniform covered knee.

" Yeah, yeah, didn't...you?....fall in the river?" Klimeck said and the two women automatically burst out laughing into chuckles. Natia took a gasping laugh in and remembered the day as if it were yesterday. She had fallen in the river and had scraped up her knee pretty good.

But the two girls had come home in their little yellow dresses, pigtails with golden ribbon strung up in their hair, to baby Ryzshard giggling in the front yard with Benji, their old childhood dog as Mother worked in the garden and Father was working on the mailbox. Mother and Father had been worried but the two girls had managed - they figured that if they had come from the river, they had been fine. And they were sisters - together they were strong in their own ways.

" Hopefully some day when we're older and there's no war, we can visit the river again, the wise Wisla." Klimeck said and Natia laughed lightly.

The trio of Flip Siblings had always called the river the wise Wisla in a fairly joking manner. She missed their childhood antics. Maybe they'd get that back again in the future, even if it was through the next generation. Hopefully war wasn't what was passed down.

Natia eventually escorted herself out of the clothed room, as Klimeck took a seat beside her baby brother and eventually got a smile on his face. She had felt guilty that he had broken down on his birthday - he was having a birthday and she had been the one to make her cry - he argued it was both happy and sad tears. That was quite the laughing matter for the two.

Natia retreated outside and found Zdzich leaned up against the wall that lead up and to the outside, smoking a cigarette under the dawning moonlight, flipping a knife between his fingers as he did so, a trademark of his really - he seemed to never go anywhere without one of them by his side, shoved in a pocket or boot.

" For someone so talkative, I'm surprised you aren't with the others." she said as she approached him and without having to turn Zdzich chuckled, softly letting the knife stop its twirling and slow in his grip. 

" Yeah, well, I guess that just comes with being an asshole." he told her and Natia chuckled as she came upon his side and stared up towards the darkening outside world, as he slid the knife into his pocket, Natia watching with a curious gaze.

" Cigarette?" he asked her and she glanced up towards him and nodded. A cigarette for a thousand problems. Natia gently took the cigarette from his grasp and leant forward as he cautiously lit up the end. Natia sucked in before breathing out a puff of smoke and sighing as the drug filled her lungs. 

" Would you say I'm still mysterious, Zdzich?" she asked him, as she placed the cigarette on her lips again and he turned his gaze upon her again.

" It's always a consideration, especially when I saw you not hesitate to kill that Nazi official the other day, and slipped those rings off his finger." he said and Natia smirked.

" They make a cool tune when you put them in a bag and wack someone over the head with it." Natia said and Zdzich let out a laugh.

" You're ridiculous." he chuckled out.

" You gotta be in this world." she said and he smirked to that.

" Yeah, you gotta, don't ya?" Natia chuckled with a slight nod, puffing out a thing of smoke. 

" Where'd you learn to wield your knife like that?" she asked him," Especially when you have a weapon like you have?" Zdzich glanced at her and reached down to his boot pulling another one from the sheath it seemed to be held in and behind. He held it out towards her and Natia took it in the hand that didn't hold the cigarette and looked at it.

" My dad." he told her," Taught me when I was a child, now I sorta just take it where I go...to remember him." Natia watched him with soft eyes before glancing down at the knife, slowly twirling it in her fingers a bit. 

" Now..." Zdzich says," you have one, for when this war is finally over and we go our separate ways." Natia glanced up towards him and smiled softly with a nod.

" Thanks Zdzich." she said, twirling the knife a bit," And with what we've been through, I don't think I'll forget that easily." Zdzich smiled softly at her with the moon illuminating his face. She smiled.

Natia ad Zdzich had taken breakfast the following morning, earlier than they had before, but with the anticipation of attacks almost daily, you had to be ready to drop your food and pick up your gun in seconds. Natia had a piece of bread half raised to her lips when one of the runners for Chrusciel came running, running and looking for her.

" You kidding me?" she asked the runner as he stood with wide eyes watching her, after the speech which had spanned far too long for her liking.

If she were to run straight through the fire, don't even tell her all the stuff in the middle - all she needed was a beginning and an end, the recklessness could take care of the rest. 

" I wish I was, Fidel." he said and then nodded to Zdzich, " If I was, maybe I wouldn't be as tense." Natia silently cursed to herself before taking one last puff of the smoke and then looking at the runner.

" Take me to him." she said and the runner nodded before turning and racing off. Natia glanced at Zdzich who mockingly rolled his eyes making Natia smirk as she followed after the runner.

They moved through elements of the 8 different located forces that gathered in various spots around the city to battle - they always ended up with members from each in this sector of the Underground.

Natia's eyes scanned the foreground, but never strayed from the runner. Within the past 9 days, she had been called to Chrusciel only once - for the mission to Studzianki, for her and Zdzich had been on the 10th day, but now between the urgent and tense voice in the runner's voice, it was enough to set her off, P-38 bumping at her side. Her fingers itched for its grasp yet again, but the lumbering look from Death in his corner was enough for her to remove her hand from the hilt.

The runner approached the cloth and slowly pulled it back, enough for Natia to press her hand against the cold brick and step inside to see Chrusciel and her sister eyes on the large map in the center of the room, serious expressions upon their faces.

" Still needing me even after the demotion, what a surprise, sir." she couldn't help but say, a bit of bitterness thrown in Antoni's general direction. But after 5 years, he was used to her motives - she was still pissed over it all. Who wouldn't be in war? 

" Cut the bullshit, Fidel." muttered Chrusciel, " I didn't demote you, Komo did, and even though we're in the middle of pure chaos - who cares - come here. Don't let it bother you now." Natia let out a brandished sigh and then approached his side where Klimeck sent a smirk her way.

" Let me guess," Natia started, " the Allies still won't act without Soviet approval." She didn't even need to say much else to let Antoni and Klimeck look at each other before looking at her. Natia narrowed her eyes.

" It means we're on our own." she said again, letting her voice harden for a mere moment.

" Correct." Antoni said and Natia slowly let her shoulders slump in defeat. 

" We may have air support, but no ground support has even been thought of." Klimeck stated, " Government-in-exile has supposedly tried to alert authorities in London, but we can't confirm anything. What we have now, is what we deal with."

" What about food and water supply?" Natia asked, " Without those, we dwindle." Experiencing near heat stroke from lack of water in a matter of 24 hours was enough for Natia's energy to be focused immediately on calories and water intake. 

" Dwindling." Antoni told her as if mocking her previous phrase, " And will dwindle, because whatever they give us in those air drops is not enough to support us. And they're trying, but with such a massive force it might never be enough."

" Dwad found a few packages dropped out beyond occupied Polish territory, in German territory - he couldn't reach the packages, the Nazis got them." Klimeck said and Natia sighed, swallowing the sadness that shivered in her throat. 

" Alright," Natia said, " so then what's the plan?" Antoni watched her and huffed.

" Glad you asked." he said and then put his hands on his hips and nodded to Klimeck. Klimeck nodded and cleared her throat.

Antoni Chrusciel was the only leader of high authority who really respected Klimeck and her leadership position among the men - he understood her intelligence and her use of her SOE Agent position as well, and used that to their advantage. He always said the others were not capable of understanding the importance of Klimeck in the ranks, so they went with that.

Natia just said that they were misogynistic.

No one went with that idea, even though everyone was certain it was the most accurate. A female in authoritative power? Not many people wished to see it, especially in war. Natia argued that wars were started by men anyway, what made any difference in there was a female in the leadership - the men would still get their pointless war.

" We have our 8 districts," Klimeck started, her finger pointing to Śródmiście, " this is Sub-District 1, where we also have Warszawa-Śródmiście and the Old Town." Natia narrowed her eyes at where her finger lay. She remembered being in the Old Town with Zdzich two days prior with one of the Battalions, but they had returned to Headquarters once gunfire opened up and the Battalion had to retreat. 

" Here is the Sub-district 2 of Żoliborz, where we have Marymont, Żoliborz and Bielany. Sub-district 3 is of Wola." Klimeck stated and Natia swallowed.

Wola was home.

Wola was now destroyed and in ruins - it would never be home again.

" Sub-district 4 is Ochata, 5 is Mokotòw, the 6th is Praga, the 7th is in the Warsaw Suburbs in the Warsaw West Country, and the Autonomous Region Vll of Okęcie is located in Okęcie. Units of the Directorate of Sabotage and Diversion remain with us, for the most part, any members here with be connected with them for the time being until further notice, just so we don't spread too far around the majority of the city." Klimeck explained and Antoni watched proudly.

After taking Klimeck under his wing for the past 3 years, Klimeck had to be one of the best leaders among them - male or female did not matter - she was a good leader, it all that mattered. Even though some had different opinions on the matter.

" We have Hungarian forces as well, they've been stationed in their posts around the city, but we are anticipating an attack within the next 24 hours. Scouts sent out on the edge of town, coordinated by Pilecki and Nowak, monitored by Zielinski, they've been seeing movement, here," Klimeck stated, pointing her finger to the south side of Warsaw - where the current battle at Studzianki raged, " and we should anticipate that even if there are battles south, they have forces bridging the gap. But keep is hush-hush above, we can't worry them. The city is in plenty of ruins as it is." Natia nodded and so did Antoni.

The reason Natia liked Klimeck's leadership style was because it wasn't just battle after battle, war after war - she cared for her men and women and soldiers, each and every one of them, and she lead with pride, a boost of anger quite possibly, but that was in every leader's veins by this point, as well with no movement not prepared. That would just be stupid this far into war.

Some of their other leaders, thought good at their job, got more men killed than the job done. But where was Natia's say - she did the same - but working as a loner caused that. Working in massive groups was always a struggle, she was used to slithering around herself - at least Zdzich could handle himself and there wasn't much babying to do with him.

" What do you want me doing?" she asked. There was a reason they asked of her alone. Klimeck and Antoni glanced at each other. 

" With the anticipated attack underway, an infantry one, we need you and de Ville, moving off towards a scouting mission in the Old Town, move up in the ruins of some of the building. Try to remain calm around the citizens there, because we sill have a vast majority of them on the streets daily, but we can't worry them." Antoni explained to her and Natia nodded sucking in a soft breath.

" We can do that, sir." she said, with a confirming nod and a proud glint in her eye, " We won't let you down. And we'll radio back as well to Zof."

Zof was Zofia's codename - she liked to use it because it was the nickname her mother had given her as a baby. Her mother had long ago been carted off to the camps of Poland and Germany, but she still had hope to see her mother again.

" Perfect," Klimeck said, " you two can get moving, sneak out under the cover of morning. We wish you luck."

Professional.

Natia could tell by the look in Klimeck's eyes that Klimeck wanted to wrap Natia up in a warm hug and tell her everything would be okay, but that was vulnerability and vulnerability lead to death.

Death watched from a corner, but slowly drifted away when Klimeck simply just nodded to Natia again, enough affirmation for the moment. Natia turned and left the room without second glance. Her heart gave at the look Klimeck gave her, of worry and pure fear for her, but they had to skip past that - they were at war.

And that's what hurt Natia, that she couldn't express the same sadness to her family and friends that they did to her. But she was far to numb to the pelting of war on her skin to even worry for her life. Death was an old friend, she shouldn't fear him.

Natia stepped out into the darkened hallway, letting the cloth drop again behind her. Natia pressed a hand up against the wall and let out a shaky breath. Maybe it was starting to hit her again, the constant struggle of war even after 5 years, the defeat, the loss of hope, all of it. It was wearing on her and she hated it more than anything in this world.

To feel a heavy weight like a blanket pulling you down, until you couldn't even move anymore. Like feet in the mud.

" Hey," a voice called and Natia looked over to see Zdzich coming towards her, a light smile on his face, both of their weapons on his shoulders.

" Hey," Natia said letting out a sigh as she stepped forward and gratefully took her submachine from his shoulder, " we got a new mission."

" Not surprised." he said, and Natia chuckled, " What is it?" 

" Old Town - they're anticipating an attack today at least, something of the sort. They want us scouting, high above, seeing over top the ruins, reporting back to Zof, maybe then we can get a better idea." Natia confirmed and Zdzich smirked.

" And they want to the two assholes out doing that?" Zdzich asked with a chuckle. And Natia snickered.

" I thought you were the only asshole." she said and Zdzich chuckled from beside her as the two started maintaining a nice walking pace back through the hallway towards the common area of the Underground.

" Yeah, well, that's only on Weekdays." he confirmed, " On God's day I'm an angel." Natia looked up at him with a laugh.

" Yeah, right." she said and Zdzich chuckled.

" It's true," he singsonged and Natia couldn't help but laugh - a real genuine laugh that made her feel something for once - maybe a layer on her heart melted for a moment. Because for a second, she found joy in the chaos and in the darkness. But that was all Zdzich really - he was quite funny and had a way with words that made her laugh a lot. She was glad that they were partners despite it all.

The two moved in through the common room again and spotted various people already cooking what food they could - a mass majority of it was barley, the only thing people could gather now, as food and water dwindled like a fire going out. _Quickly_.

" For our freedom and yours." Natia whispered the phrase under her breath, sort of like a gentle mantra to herself, to calm her nerves, to focus her on the duty. The call of the Home Army.

Zdzich glanced towards the woman, who whispered the phrase softly in her native tongue, the Polish sliding past her lips like a prayer. A prayer especially for someone who was not even religious. Darkness was the only thing that touched her soul now.

" Zucchini! Nat! Hey!' a voice called and Natia was knocked out of the quiet whisper to see Felicjan coming towards the two, a grin upon his face, and two things of bread in his grasp. Franciszek was coming up behind with, a stack of papers in his grasp, and a radio hanging from his belt. What is the actual chaos was going on? 

" I told you, it's Zdzich." Zdzich said with a laughing grin up to Felicjan and Felicjan chuckled as he shoved the bread into each of their hands.

" It's a good nickname you gotta admit." he said.

" You've never had zucchini have you?" Natia told him and Felicjan chuckled.

" Cigarettes and gin settled me better, we know this." Felicjan said as Franciszek came up beside him, arm reaching for the radio at his side.

" Yeah we know," Franciszek said and then pulled the radio from his side and placed it gently in Natia's grasp.

" Keep this one, always keep it on. Zofia set up radio signals all around here a few days ago and they're all in working order. We got contact from Dwad and Angelika a day ago - it was a clear signal. And Zofia has managed to jam up all receptors of Nazi radios that run throughout the area. Any communication you say, will be safe in our ears and no one else's, remember that." Franciszek explained to the two and they both nodded.

A French-Polish man, with enough intelligence and gentleman-like atmosphere for the world to handle, he worked well with others and had a commanding presence, but he gave good hugs. Natia knew that much from the one time she had a failed mission and all she needed were her father's arms. Franciszek's had been comforting enough, and plus his advice was motivational in its own ways.

Business man in disguise.

" Thanks Francis." she said and Franciszek smiled his beautiful, genuine smile her way. 

" Always, Flip." he said and Natia grinned up at him with a nod.

" How about you stop distracting these two, Felicjan, they got a job to do. And so do you." Franciszek offered Felicjan at his side. Felicjan sighed.

" I can't even take a smoke break?" Felicjan complained.

" I'm sure if you did, Kaja would slap you senseless and I'm sure we don't need a repeat of last time." Franciszek offered and Natia nearly buckled over laughing at the narrowed gaze of Felicjan.

" She caught me off guard, Zielinski, what was I supposed to do?" Felicjan complained as Franciszek chuckled.

" C'mon, good luck you two." Franciszek called to the two dragging Felicjan away as Natia chuckled to herself.

" You guys all seem pretty close." Zdzich said and Natia smirked up at him.

" Yeah you could say that." she said, " It's like a family though, always has been. I guess war does that sort of thing." Zdzich smiled.

" Let's head out." she said and Zdzich nodded with a grin.

" One asshole after the other." he said, lending an arm forward, guiding her forward. Natia chuckled as she watched him.

" Okay, asshole, c'mon." she said and the two chuckled, heading away into the soft morning light to sneak through the ruins of Warsaw.

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H I S T O R I C A L N O T E S

> There were the 8 districts of Warsaw, where forces were spread about during the Warsaw Uprising including, but no limited to, Śródmiście, Warszawa-Śródmiście and the Old Town, Żoliborz, Marymont, Bielany, Wola, Ochata, Mokotòw, Praga, and the Autonomous Region Vll of Okęcie.

> It is TRUE that there were Hungarian forces that were recruited to fight with the Polish Resistance during the Warsaw Uprising.

A / N

_AH - definitely another one of my favorite chapters! Check out Friday's next 2 chapter update - definitely....interesting, if that's one way to put it LOL!!! :) Thank you all truly for accompanying me on this journey nearly every week - thank you all - wishing those of you who celebrate an EARLY merry christmas present for this and those of you who don't celebrate just a special surprise for you!! Thank you all! <3_


	14. The Touch of Death

" Fear is the touch of death, death reminding us of its existence."

_\- Ivan Klima_

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**_Old Town, Warsaw, Poland_ **

**_August 11th, 1944_ **

**_0800_ **

**_11 days since the Uprising_ **

They moved along the sides of the roads, blending in with the small bit of civilians that roamed the streets in the early hours. The entrance to the Underground where they were in the city, had been dead for much longer than other parts which were still fairly intact. So, it was easy to blend in. 

Of course, the Polish Resistance Fighter uniform, along with the bright white and red armband around their biceps was enough to draw some attention, but it was also enough to have people avoid them - the Nazis for that. Because for a moment, there was peace - no one wished to disturb that after 5 years of fighting. A mere moment of time where peace resonated so clearly was sometimes what war needed. 

Natia could hear Zdzich's breathing beside her and the occasional brush of his hand on her hand was the signal. 

Nazis were watching them. 

They were being watched. 

They were always under the eyes of the enemy. 

Natia slowly let her eyes move instead of her head. The Nazi was watching her, his gaze loathing, his steps quiet across the Earth, but with each blink of the eye, she felt discomfort latch onto her entire body. She was female and Polish. 

Enough said. 

Natia couldn't help but slink closer to Zdzich. She always felt uncomfortable under the gaze of a Nazi in her Polish Fighter uniform. 

Of course as Ingrid Fischer, confidence billowed off her in waves as if she were puffing out smoke, but the sight of his eyes on her body was not a comfortable feeling and Zdzich was quick to the notice the discomfort of his partner, and willingly set his gaze on the Nazi, his pace slowing briefly as they walked. 

Zdzich, though his eyes were soft as that of lilacs was enough to send one averting their eyes the opposite direction. The Nazi did avert the unsettling gaze from Natia to the stands along the side of the road again. Natia felt the shuttering breath leave her lungs and then sparingly glanced back over her shoulder. He didn't look back.

" Nat-"

" Let's just get a move on." she said and picked up her pace forward. 

As they moved, Natia couldn't help but meet the eyes of the ones in the streets without food, the children begging for their aching stomachs, the mothers crying out for a spare bit of change, or even an elder stumbling up the road. It was numbing. 

The Old Town was close, she could feel it. 

The Old Town had long ago been bombed to ruins, but plenty of the citizens who lived there had tried to suture it up again - but to no avail, the ruins had nearly fallen again. 

As they drew away from the more lively part of Warsaw, Natia leaned up against the edge of a concrete building and narrowed her eyes, eyes searching for a building of the Old Town that would be perfect for scouting. 

Angelika and her, before she was partnered with Dwad, had done a few runs through Old Town and they had both resorted in chaos - Old Town was usually always chaotic. Natia hoped this run they could go, scout, fire a few bullets and return back to the Underground in time for dinner. Zdzich came up beside her, the sun resting on the top of his field cap as he stood beside her.

" Old Town." he said, " It's been a while since I've seen this place." Natia glanced at him and gave him a sad frown.

" Yeah," she said, eyes turning back to the sight, " times were much different." 

A hollow sadness filled both of their hearts and for a moment it was like a time warp where Natia saw herself running through the streets out in front of her parents, people everywhere, delicious smells from the bakeries, street music and a butterfly right in front of her, as she giggled. 

She hadn't caught the butterfly. Natia let out a sigh.

" Let's go," she said and Zdzich nodded, " cover me." 

And then Natia leapt forward, letting her feet carry her out in the open through the center of the square, dust kicking up behind her, as her eyes almost immediately located the opening up a dusty hill towards the 2nd story of a building. She'd been there before. It'd be perfect. 

Natia arrived at the dust hill mixed with dirt and sand and quickly scrambled up it, the dust settling into pits of her uniform as sweat began to pour down her face. Her hands grabbed fistfuls of sand as she rushed further up the hill, before her muscles gave one final thrust and propelled her up onto the cool ground of the building, enough where she could turn around and see the sun glowing down the street, filled with emptiness and the blue sky overtop. 

Natia launched up and then peaked out the corner where the hill was and gave a quick hand signal to Zdzich on the other side. Zdzich gave a slight nod, as Natia adjusted her weapon up into her arms and kept an eye on Zdzich and the outskirts. 

Not many people came through the Old Town - there were too many harsh memories of what had happened here, and too many good memories clouded by evil. It was painful. Even Natia could feel a pain of nostalgia before the war encase her entire being. It hurt. 

Zdzich was fast - she had never realized how lanky his body was, but it was enough to propel him up the side of the sand hill. Natia flipped the weapon quickly around her shoulders, knocking into the binoculars she had brought along and reached out a sandy hand towards Zdzich who was quick to take it. And with both their efforts, she pulled him straight up and into the cool bombed out building. He landed right on his back and the energy propelled Natia onto her own, until they were both breathing heavy, staring right up at the concrete roof that lead to the 3rd floor.

" You sure reckless isn't your middle name?" Zdzich asked her. Natia snickered.

" If it was, I'd be dead already." she said and Zdzich smirked.

" C'mon." she said rolling up, and pulling Zdzich up with her, " If this attack is what they say it is, I need to radio back once we get a clear shot on the roof." 

" Right," he said, accepting her help with ease. 

For a moment, Natia could see maybe a slice of fear within his eyes, and daring to test the waters, she eased a gentle hand onto his shoulder and softly squeezed it.

" We'll be okay, I promise." she said. 

And in her tone, it was genuine, it was real. 

She knew fear, and fear was not fun to have around - it's why she grew numb to it, to it all. But she never wanted another to have to go through that, it was a horrible feeling. Zdzich didn't deserve to go through that either. 

Zdzich softly nodded and that was enough to settle it. 

They moved through the bombed out buildings, walls in shambles as they moved quickly and quietly up staircases, hacking quite a bit and sneezing at the billowing dust that collected in their lungs. 

Natia felt the breeze pick up once she opened the door that lead off the roof. She could hear it in her ears, like blood rushing through. And it was so bright, the entire sky, a beautiful deep blue, with the ruins of war just below it. Natia stepped forward, placing her hand above her eyes, as she peered around. It was quite vast, with nothing for miles except ruins. Reaching for the little radio at her side, Zdzich came up beside her and looked around.

" Holy shit." he said and Natia chuckled as she clicked on the radio.

" Zof?"

" Fidel, loud and clear." Zofia's voice called back through the radio. A sigh of relief escaped her being. 

" Slaw and Fidel - top of the building - OT." she translated back. 

Zdzislaw hated when Natia called him anything but Zdzich - Slaw was his codename, but he hated it - he preferred Zdzich much more. 

OT was Old Town - a fine mix of the Polish Language and English - just for fun as Zofia had called it.

" Over." Zofia called back. Natia and Zdzich waited in silence for a quiet moment, just the two of them awaiting Zofia back again on the radio. Natia glanced up towards Zdzich, where a trail of sweat ran down his face, as his eyes slowly scanned the premise, taking everything in. 

" You're clear, no reports of movement from ST yet." Zofia told her. ST - a simple name for their Scout Teams, quite basic, but it worked for years on end by now.

" Set, over." Natia set. Set as in - they were setting base and would remain until movement or further notice. 

" Okay," Natia said and slipped the radio onto her hip," c'mere." 

Leading Zdzich over the two quickly moved to a bombed out sector that lead straight down about 10 or so stories to the ground, the yellow sand collecting below, as a bird whistled overhead. Otherwise it was deafly quiet. 

The two lied under the sun, baking like peppers that her mother cooked, their uniforms drenching with sweat under the sun, as they lied side by side like Studzianki. 

In a matter of 24 hours, they'd been across Warsaw and back - but that was war. You didn't rest much or each much on the move - and if you did some of the towns ladies set up a table and with enough chicken broth could feed a majority. But it was rare. 

Natia peered through her binoculars and let out a sigh.

" Can I tell you a story, Zdzich?" she asked him as Zdzich glanced towards her.

" Is it a life lesson?" he asked.

" Are you always like this?' she said pulling back from the binoculars with a growing smirk as she saw his grin appear.

" Not always."

" Just with me you mean, to annoy me."

" I am an asshole, you said it." Natia chuckled.

" Shut up." she said shaking her head and pulling the binoculars up, " Anyways...I...uh, I met someone." Zdzich looked at her with wide eyes and immediately she blushed knowing her words were taken wrongly by him.

" No idiot, not....not like that. I'm in a war, genius." she said, scoffing as Zdzich watched her.

" Back in 1942, must've been late 1942, I met Private Wojtek." she said," He was quite a fascinating creature." 

" Nat, you're not making any sense." Zdzich complained and Natia looked at him.

" Private Wotjek is not a human, he's a bear." Natia said to him and Zdzich's eyes grew.

" And why am I just learning about this?" he said, " I didn't know the Poles finally got a bear in the ranks." Natia chuckled.

" The asshole overpowered the listening abilities I'm assuming." she said and Zdzich scoffed, shoving her shoulder, with narrowed eyes.

" Alright, alright, anyway, I just saw him near one of the locations for our oil field explosion out near Lithuania. And...I was the only female there at the time, trying to get by and he approached me. Quiet as he was, he sat down beside me and even though he was a bear, I didn't feel quite as along as I previously was. I had no friends, no family - they were all back in Warsaw. It was a solo mission with members of the Underground. And we shared a ration together." Natia said and Zdzich watched Natia utter the words gently.

" It was like he understood how lonely I was without even knowing who I was or why I was there. He looked at me as if I were just another soul. And he was just a bear." Natia said, looking down at her dust and dirt covered fingertips, " I was just another being on this Earth. I wasn't an ally or an enemy. I wasn't even human, and I'm still not, I was just a being in his mind. And it seemed that was enough for him." Natia said and suddenly, her heart gave, and her throat tightened. She hadn't thought about her moment with Private Wotjek in quite sometime. It was a painful memory that never failed to resurface every so often. But sitting her beside Zdzich now reminded her of that moment. 

Zdzich saw her face fall, and even though she tried to hide it, he saw the way her entire demeanor went from the ice layer to the broken frames underneath. It grew quiet as Natia played the memory in her head over and over. A shaky breath escaped her.

" I don't think I'll ever experience that sort of comfort from a stranger again." she said, " Who reminded me why I'm fighting the war I fight." Zdzich watched her, as Natia let out a sigh, ignoring the watery filled vision that swam in her eyes and bringing up the binoculars again with no tank in sight. 

Zdzich wanted to tell her that he was there - he was her partner. Even if they were both assholes together and towards each other, it didn't mean he didn't care. But the moment faded.

" Zdzich." she whispered, her voice shaking. Zdzich looked at her and tensed shuffling closer, hands reaching for the binoculars.

" What?" he said, pulling the binoculars to his eyes, Natia directing his eyes towards the source. The tanks - they were rolling - big tanks, German tanks, Nazi tanks - enemy tanks. The flag of the enemy behind it. 

" They said infantry." Natia snapped, pulling the binoculars from him, " Not fucking tanks!" Zdzich was quick to pull the radio from Natia's belt and click it up to his lips.

" Zof!" he called through, his voice higher pitched in urgency.

" Over, Slaw what's up?" her voice was too calm and it caused Natia's heart rate to increase. No, no, no, no! It was tumbling downhill, all of it. This wasn't supposed to go this way. 

The misfortunes of war.

" It's tanks...not infantry. The attack, it's tanks, loads of them, we don't have enough support down here, we'll be slaughtered." Zdzich called through the radio, disregarding all codes, everything. Zofia jammed the receptors with a buzz through the radio. 

" Slow down Slaw," she called," say it again.

" It's fucking tanks, Zof!" Natia yelled through the radio, taking it from Zdzich's hand, her heart pounding, making her head pound as she sat there, jaw agape. The line was silent, as suddenly the world shook a bit as the first tanks rounded the corner into Old Town.

" Oh shit." Zofia snapped, " Ryzshard!" She was calling for Ryzshard.

" No! No! Zofia! Just...get Chrusciel! Get him or someone, we-" the line went off. It had disconnected or died. 

_Oh no._

Natia met the horrified eyes of Zdzich who watched her with a clenched jaw, and darkening eyes. They breathed in sync with each other, gazes looked on both of each other's darkening and ever changing gazes. Natia swallowed. 

Slowly she drew a hand from the radio and pressed it to her trembling lips which tried to force hot air from them. Zdzich slowly nodded. Any jerky movements and they'd be spotted. Snipers, infantry, tanks - the entire lot of them - they'd be dead. 

Natia ever so slowly without removing her gaze from Zdzich, attached the radio to her hip - maybe it'd crackle back to life, maybe the Underground had been overrun, maybe some attack had happened - anything could've happened. 

Slowly Natia reached up in the burning sun and brought the binoculars up and nearly threw up. Tanks, upon tanks were drawing down the dusty street, aglow under the scorching bulb of fire which gaze so much life, pushing up dust and particles into the air, the voices of the Nazis below, echoing off the ruins that infiltrated the vast majority of the city. Her eyes watched in horror, blinking away sweat and dirt in her eyes, as the tanks continued moving through Old Town. 

Poland's Old Town. 

Warsaw's Old Town. 

The Old Town that was once filled with life and happiness and joy.

" What do you see?" Zdzich whispered from beside her, his voice a quiet hum next to her head. Natia managed out a trembling breath of air. 

" Tanks. They're everywhere." she whispered, her breath coming out in battered breaths, " And infantry, infantry's everywhere. There's so many."

" We can't stay here." Natia whispered, " We have to warn them." Natia turned back from the binoculars to meet the eyes of Zdzich.

" If we move, Nat, we die." he whispered back, his breathing rate growing heavily as the two watched each other, tension rising like a growing fire. Natia slowly, with even slower movements glanced back over her shoulder, and looked towards the door.

" Then we crawl." Natia whispered and Zdzich's eyes grew in size.

" We crawl?" he whispered and Natia nodded, turning back to meet his eyes.

" If we don't crawl, we die, Zdzich. We can't die yet, we haven't warned them and if this radio is dead like it looks like, we die and we can't let them know." she said, " So please....we have to warn them." The two watched each other, breathing heavily, bile rising in their throats, worry building in the pits of their chests as they lay there.

" I'm willing to risk my life for them," Natia whispered softly, and she couldn't help but feel the urge to suddenly cry, crawl through her throat, " I can't leave them hanging, out there with no info, no radio call. I have to go back, Zdzich, I have to." Zdzich watched her, and then reach down and grabbed the radio from her hip and pulled it up to his lips.

" Zof!" he snapped out in an angry whisper through the radio, his finger repeatedly slamming into the button, calling the codename through, over and over again into the empty and quiet box.

" Zof!" he called again, the frustration, the anger, the sweat, the pain, the grief, all of it, exploding in the pain of that single word.

" Zof!" he nearly cried out slamming his finger on the button again, as Natia reached forward, clasping her hand over his, causing him to look at her with horrified eyes, and a trembling bottom lip. 

" We're all alone." Natia choked out, taking in a shuttering breath as she ran a hand over her face to calm her racing heart. 

Squeezing her eyes shut, the dehydration was filling her mind like wildfire, making her mind spin, the exhaustion hitting like a bag of bricks. Maybe she was this way because she was finally realizing that this time she might actually die - she had no plan. In all other scenarios, there had been an escape plan, a plan where life continued. There was only Death at the doorstep now. 

Natia licked her dust covered and dried lips and glanced back over her shoulder towards the door - but that's when gunfire echoed out below them. Natia didn't flinch or jump, or even react. She quite literally froze. Gunfire was not what she expected to hear. Gunfire on what. It had come from below. Natia turned her head and found Zdzich watching below with wide eyes. 

Crawling up beside him in her field cap as sweat trickled down her cheek, her eyes widened at the scene below. Resistance members were firing from where Natia and Zdzich had just previously come from. 

Zdzich and Natia looked at each other with wide eyes before leaning furhter ahead even more. The Resistance fighters fought with such a prideful power in their Old Town, firing on the Nazis that scattered once the gunshots entered their realm. Up the road a ways came some of the tanks they had captured months prior. It was all happening so fast - but that meant they could escape, both of them, down the stairs, through the side streets and buildings back to safety, to gear up for battle.

" C'mon we can make a run for it!" Natia called excitedly, shoving back from her spot, to the tiny wall that protected from the other side and their protected side. Zdzich let out an excited laugh as he slowly moved back, beginning to speak with a newfound spirit in his voice.

" Never thought this would happen, but I-" Natia let out a chuckle, turning to glance up towards Zdzich, but then her eyes filled with complete and utter horror at the sight. 

It was why he had stopped speaking, because the blood was too overwhelming to even choke oneself through.

" Zdzich?" Natia mumbled out, the pain and anguish of the blood dribbling down his quivering chin not enough to truly hit the icy stone that was her heart. Nor were his eyes, which fell with such life still in them, or the way his body suddenly slumped back, rolling away with whatever energy he had left to compose himself with, back and away from the opening.

" Zdzich!" Natia cried, crawling towards him, moving as close as she could to the side of his face, watching the blood pool faster, down and over his neck and mouth, and over his clothing, everywhere. It was all too overwhelming, too much of it, all of it. 

Everything ached as her hands pressed into the hard clumps of dirt and sand and ruins on top of the building, her eyes filling faster and faster with tears, the watery liquid that withheld too much emotion from too many years of held in pain she had refused to let out.

" Natia." Zdzich managed to choke out, and Natia felt her heart clench as Zdzich looked up towards her, watching. 

" Zdzich, Zdzich please, you're okay, right? You're fine, you're okay!" she cried, as she collapsed by his side, as another explosion rocked the entirety of the building causing her to press her body down on top of his own, cradling his blood covered face within her sweat covered palms, suddenly feeling a cry build like an explosion in her throat, waiting to be lit aglow. Trembling and shaking in fear, Natia pulled back, holding his face so close to her own and watched his eyelids struggle to remain open, struggle to even take a breath through the blood that poured from his mouth.

" Zdzich, please," she whimpered, " you promised, a drink for the two of us, a cigarette, another chance to sing, you and I...remember?" She watched Zdzich smile with such pain, the life in his eyes growing smaller and smaller, feeding into Death's lingering touch that slowly penetrated Zdzich's entire body. 

" You don't....you don't need me for that." he mumbled through a choked grumble in his throat, coughing, as he groaned, as the gunfire picked up below, and the sun baked them like cookies. He would never eat a cookie again. 

Natia sat in that moment, tears continuing to well further in her eyes as she watched an innocent boy in her grasp, underneath her very much filled with life body, dying. He was _DYING_. A boy not meant for war was dying when she could've been the one to die. She _SHOULD'VE_ been the one to die. 

A pained and strangled cry left Zdzich's lips as the gunfire continued to erupt underneath, and Natia had all but let out a whimper escape past her dried lips at the mere sound, softly brushing her hand through the back of his head of hair, holding him close.

In his final moments, he'd know that he was comforted by someone who cared for him even if she didn't show it - Death would do the same. War would not. 

Another whimper passed his lips and Natia softly held his cheek, watching his big, brown eyes watching her own.

" Hey," she whispered, her voice crackling like fire, " hey, it's okay, I'm here, Zdzich, I'm right here." Zdzich looked up at her, breathing heavy, panic and fear filling his entire system.

" I'm dying." he managed out, " Nat...I-I.."

" Hey," Natia whispered, her voice shaking, and not entirely coherent, " don't waste your breath, it'll be okay. I promise you." His eyes softly shut and a tired grin encapsulated his face. She knew it wouldn't. She couldn't carry him back as war erupted below them.

" You always said you weren't faithful..." he whispered and tears trailed down her sun dusted cheeks, " you never thought you were either." Natia let out a strangled cry, blood seeping over her fingers, as Death's touch was nearly upon them.

" You were always faithful to me." he whispered and Natia shattered, full, heart breaking sobs running past her lips overtop of a boy she had only known for 2 months. She had felt she had known him all her life, and he always had cared for her - he didn't care that she barely spoke and when she did, her words were cold and ignorant half the time. He didn't care. They were partners and would be forced to care for one another. And they did, more than anything, they always had. 

And now, in his final moments, Natia wished to hold him as if she were his mother, cradling his head, and his soft head of hair, stroking his cheek ever so gently, as blood continued to pool. She promised to herself, he would remember his final moments, as a good few final moments, where all he felt was warmth and comfort, and he didn't have to hear the explosions below, the firefight in the streets, none of it. He wouldn't have to hear any of it ever again.

" Gentle." he managed out, as Natia struggled to see him through her tear filled eyes, softly running her hand past the tear that trailed down his cheek, " Your touch. Gentle." Natia sucked in a trembling cry and softly cradled him closer, softly brushing her fingers through her hair, feeling his labored breaths against the exposed part of the top of her chest. 

And for a moment, she relished the closeness she even held with another human, simply touching him, holding him, being able to grasp him this close to her and not feeling the need to wriggle away. But he deserved to be held in his final moments, to be filled with love and appreciation and gentle fingers soothing him as they ran through his hair. She could feel the life slipping from his body and it took everything in her, every ounce of fight and willpower that she could muster, to hold herself, to just let him not hear anything but her beating heart to calm him. 

" It's okay," she whispered, softly trembling as she held him, holding his face to her shoulder, shaking, " I'll see you soon one day, alright? One day when there's no more wars in this world to be fought. And we can share another cigarette under the moon." Natia worked a whimper up her throat the thought of never meeting him for a mission again, for never being able to tell a joke or two with him. 

" Nat...." he whispered against her and Natia pulled back, softly holding his face, watching his tired eyes barely remain open, barely even register her, " don't let this war consume you." Natia nodded, trembling breaths leaving her lips.

" I hope it won't." she whimpered.

" Promise me," he managed, before choking on a spit of blood and Natia crumbled.

" I promise." she whispered, " I do." 

" I think I'll just shut my eyes," he choked out, " just for a moment."

" No! Zdzich, Zdzich, please hey, no, no! Zdzich, please, you can't leave not yet!" she cried out, watching his eyes slowly flutter close under the bright sunshine, and suddenly his body went cold, and limp. 

Death had won - he always did. 

In the end Death always won even if War thought he won more often. 

Because after War there was life and death, but in the end, after Death, there was simple that - Death. 

Zdzislaw de Ville died atop a building in the Old Town of Warsaw, Poland, as war raged below, humans pitted against humans, by their rulers in high chairs. Minions forced into brainwashing for murder. He had died in the arms of someone who loved him for him. 

Natia felt numb, clutching his dead and chilled body in her grasp, shuttering breaths whispering past her lips, the wind blowing against her hair, pillowing it up around her face, as she rocked his body softly back and forth.

" You are such a good person," she managed out, her blood painted fingers, softly brushing at his face. It fell so innocently, so youthful like, against her chest, as if coddled into her chest like a child. 

" Always....always remember that.." she whimpered out. Natia shut her eyes, trying to breath, trying to get herself under control, but instead all she was left with was hot, boiling tears running along her cheeks, pushing away the dust on her face. 

Natia looked at his face, so young and eager and full of life, opportunity ripped from him by a bullet in his path. And the guilt consumed her like a disease, growing in every part of her body, and continuing to bud - everywhere. He wasn't supposed to have died, not like this. No one deserved a death such as this. 

Tears crawled down her cheeks, salt on her cracked lips, the only thing she felt, as if the army inside of her propelled itself further, to stop making her feel this pain. Because every time she thought of it, the pain grew worse, the increased agony of what she had just witnessed, bearing upon her heart, more and more. And the tiny army inside couldn't build up the walls fast enough, because with each give of her heart, it only ached more. 

And finally she grew too weak to move as the gunfire below slowly died down, as the world shook, signaling the tanks had rolled on, and all that was left was a monster and a corpse. 

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H I S T O R I C A L N O T E S 

> The Old Town that is mentioned is the historic Warsaw Old Town located in Warsaw, Poland. It was initially established in the 13th century. However during the Invasion of Poland, on September 1st, 1939 and on, much of the district was horribly damaged by the German Luftwaffe in a campaign of Terror Bombing drawn out by the Nazis. After the Warsaw Uprising, most of it (which had been rebuilt after the Seige of Warsaw to its best capabilities) had been destroyed yet again by the German Army. It was rebuilt after the war and now a statue commemorating the Uprising called 'The Little Insurgent' now stands there.

> Natia is infact NOT crazy - Private Wojtek was in fact a Syrian brown bear bought as a young cub at a railway station in Hamadan, Iran by the Polish 2nd Corps who had been evacuated from the Soviet Union previously.

In this case, Natia is referring to one of her missions out to some of the countries closer to the Soviet Union such as Lithuania during her first early days as a SOE Agent, where she had to work amongst the different Polish Corps to collect information and intelligence for the SOE to interpret. 

A / N 

_HEY HEY!! we've arrived at my 2nd christmas gift or for those of you who don't celebrate, little surprise! this is the 2nd of 4 double updates planned for the month of december! remember we meet the boys on December 11th, a long awaited date by myself and i'm sure all of you as well! updates are on tuesday AND friday next week - get ready, they're some of the good ones too!_

_AND OMG THIS CHAPTER OK AHHH!!! i could go on about my love for zdzich and what he meant to natia but he will be continually brought up throughout the rest of the book, so he's not gone just yet :,)_

_enjoy the next chapter! <3 thank you all and happy reading!_


	15. The Drugging of Guilt

" Guilt isn't always a rational thing...guilt is a weight that will crush you whether you deserve it or not."

\- Maureen Johnson

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_**Headquarters, Warsaw, Poland** _

_**August 11th, 1944** _

_**2000** _

" She should be back by now," Angelika hissed, " her and Zdzich both, they should be back by now." Angelika's nerves were set ablaze already, but learning it was near nightfall and neither Natia or Zdzich had made it back yet, was enough to send her worry spiraling.

" Sergeant Nowak you will not risk yourself at this time of hour." Chrusciel stiffly told her, watching as she passed around the room, anxiety filtering into her bones.

" Have you told Klimeck yet? Ryzshard? They ought to know that their sister is still missing." Angelika spat, " How dare you even say I shall not risk myself for my friend! If anything, if I die and she lives, then I'll be happy to have done it." Chrusciel watched her, as she crossed her arms. eyes filled with a murderous revival in them.

" What's going on?" a voice asked, stepping through the curtain and Angelika turned, the angry, hot-head she was, and saw it was Ryzshard.

" Your sister is still out missing with Zdzich and they have yet to return, but I can't risk my life for either of them! What sorta bullshit are you on, Chrusciel because months ago you would've sent me out already!" Angelika snapped, but Ryzshard was quick to step forward.

" My sister? Natia? She's not back yet?" Ryzshard asked as Angelika, breathing heavily, looked between the two.

" No, she is not. And neither is de Ville." Chrusciel said. Ryzshard scoffed.

" Then you oughta send someone out, hell, I'll go out, you know what, screw this. I AM going out. You coming, Nowak?" Ryzshard said, his darkening eyes turned upon her.

" You can already count me in." she spat, with a glare to Chrusciel.

And Chrusciel couldn't stop them - because in war, you couldn't stop the ones who yearned for Wars touch, who wanted nothing but War and anger and violence.

Death stood silently in the corner and for the first time in his life Chrusciel met the eyes of Death himself. Death's solemn gaze turned to look after where Ryzshard and Angelika had just burst out of and then slowly dipped his head to his black drapes across his figure. Chrusciel watched the figure - he didn't move, he didn't even speak. But he stood quietly.

He had taken a life and now he bore another soul in his own.

" Zof!" Angelika called as her and Ryzshard rounded the corner ahead into the common area.

" Zofia!" Ryzshard called, before the two hot-heads spotted her, sitting in a corner, a solemn expression upon her face, Franciszek sat beside her, speaking quietly to her as she did so. But it didn't even look like she was registering his words, nor the fact there was a burning cup of tea in her grasp. None of it. She was frozen.

" Zofia!" Ryzshard called again, his voice this time out of pure desperation, " Zofia!" Zofia slowly registered that her name was being called to her and managed to lift her head up to meet their eyes, Angelika and Ryzshard, side by side, breathing heavily out of anger and frustration.

" Have you tried radioing Nat and Zdzich, they're not back yet." Ryzshard said sucking in a shaky breath as Zofia felt her bottom lip start to tremble and Franciszek's hand on her shoulder, softly rubbing it to calm her down.

" It died, their radio, and my signal cut out. I lost them." she managed to say as she reached up a hand to wipe at the tear on her cheek, " I tried for hours to get them back on call, I did, truly, it died up there. And it's all my fault." Zofia clasped a hand to her lips and let out a whimper, as she tried to breath, and tried to control herself in front of them.

" I'm sorry." she cried out, as her trembling fingers managed to wipe the tear on her cheek away,

" I'm so sorry, I should've tried harder, anything, something, but I..." Zofia couldn't even finish her sentence, as the trembling gasps emitted from her body. Ryzshard's murderous facade slowly dripped away once he saw the tear streak down her face. She didn't have a right to blame herself over some stupid radio.

" Hey, Zof," Ryzshard said, placing a gentle hand on her shoulder, " it's not your fault." Zofia watched him through glassy eyes as she trembled slightly still.

" We're gonna get her and Zdzich both back, alright? So tonight, they'll be here and they'll be happy okay, and they won't blame you ever for this radio okay? Not everything is supposed to work out in war. But, they can handle themselves, and they're both strong, stronger even together, I promise you." Ryzshard said gently, softly rubbing her shoulder as she watched him. Zofia nodded, taking in a shuttering breath, as she hurriedly reached up to wipe away another tear that trickled down her cheek.

" Okay?" Ryzshard said softly, his voice gentle as the group of people in the large common area continued talking, the quiet hum soft as well. Zofia nodded watching him, but it didn't help that his soft, brown eyes that showed so much care and so much forgiveness sent cries rolling past her lips.

" Hey, hey, come here." Ryzshard said and immediately Zofia shuffled into his arms, cuddling into his warm embrace and hiding from the world for as long as she could.

Ryzshard held her there for a moment - it was just like Natia whenever she happened to cry, she liked to hide from the world so no one could see the tears upon her cheeks. Angelika softly met Ryzshard's eyes and the two watched each other for a brief moment as Franciszek sat quietly, his eyes looking on in defeat.

No one knew what they'd find of Natia and Zdzich and what it meant when their radio had cut out and a variety of experiences of what they could see ran through all of their heads.

Fear.

Desperation.

Death.

Too many different combinations of grief even.

" Hey Zofia?" Ryzshard as quietly, as he softly rubbed her back, as she still trembled in his arms.

" Yes?" she managed out in a quiet whisper, as she sniffled.

" Where was their last marked location?" he asked her, eyes staring blankly forward as he tried his best to register what he and Angelika were about to do.

" Old Town, atop of a building, one of the highest ones with the best signal." Zofia whispered," Where you can see the sky clearly and overlook the rest of the buildings." Ryzshard looked towards Angelika who nodded gently.

" We're gonna go now, okay?" Ryzshard said softly, leaning back to gently look down at her. Zofia nodded, her big, blue eyes still managing to fill further with tears.

Zofia Mazur was a good person, an incredible person really, who Ryzshard had never failed to admire for her wit and quick-thinking, but whenever something failed she blamed herself. Ryzshard hoped that she knew now that there was no one to blame but the war. Zofia softly pulled away and brought her arms around herself as she watched the ground with defeated eyes. Franciszek softly shuffled closer to wrap his arm around her shoulder before looking up at Angelika and Ryzshard who regained his composure up next to Angelika, running a hand through his hair with worry. Franciszek nodded firmly.

" C'mon," Angelika said, turning and moving from the sight as Ryzshard follow behind her, heart racing in his chest. He knew what building Zofia was talking about, it was the building his father had worked in before the war had started - now it was nothing but bombed out beams and mockups for a building that no longer existed. It was saddening.

" Angelika, slow down." Ryzshard called, aggravation getting to him by the fact she had barely even crouched down to make sure Zofia was already before storming off like an angry swarm of bees.

" Angelika!" snapped Ryzshard, causing her to stop and twist around quickly, blazing eyes meeting his own, " Slow down." Angelika watched him, her eyes growing darker.

" I will not slow for anyone. Your sister is alone up on a building with Zdzich and no radio is working for them and Nazis had swarmed the area. I refuse to slow for one second." she quipped looking right at his eyes.

" Zofia was upset, she's still apart of this group too." snapped Ryzshard, his heart rate picking up at the revolting anger that stemmed in every bone and muscle inside his body. Ryzshard watched the look in her eyes change, and overwhelming sadness fill her.

" Can we please just go get Zdzich and your sister?" she said, as a few tears welled in her eyes. Ryzshard understood, everyone was on edge, emotions were like rockets spitting off in every general direction, and tension always pooled like dark secrets in a discussion room.

" Fine," Ryzshard said and slid past her, annoyed at quite possibly everything that was occurring, not to mention that he had no clue what they'd come upon, when they reached Natia and Zdzich.

Were they even still up there? The worry plagued him as he moved into the sleeping quarters over to his stuff and quickly pulled his gear on, the coat gently lying over his shoulders as he did so.

" Hey," a voice said and Ryzshard turned briefly to see Klimeck there. Ryshard swallowed thickly and then offered, a forced smile, more of a grimace. Klimeck tilted her head to the side slightly and slowly approached her brother.

" You okay?" she asked him, a dancing smirk on her face. Ryzshard nearly choked on the air that moved through his lungs.

" Natia and Zdzich, they're not back yet." Ryzshard said quietly and Klimeck watched him, her eyes widening.

" It's been 10 hours...they're, they're not back yet?!" she nearly screamed as she watched him. Ryzshard stared at her, a frozen expression masked upon his lips.

" Who organized this?" she said, her gaze turning colder by the minute.

" Angelika and I did, Chrusciel did nothing - and can you believe it? He was going to hold us BOTH back, Klimeck. BOTH of us, as my sister lay God knows where with Zdzich." snapped Ryzshard, buttoning up the front of his uniform with record speed.

" Chrusciel." Klimeck muttered before looking at Ryzshard, " Don't worry about him, I can take it." Ryzshard watched Klimeck, a slow smirk spreading across his face.

" No one tells anyone that they can't go and give immediate rescue to my sister of any member of this Resistance in anyway." Klimeck nearly spat, like a bad taste in her mouth, " Bring her home."

And with that Klimeck stormed out, her trails blazing, destination set right for Chrusciel. Klimeck pulled back the cloth curtain of the entrance way to the meeting room and found it congested with a multitude of male leaders from the 8 sectors of Warsaw. Klimeck cleared her throat as she stepped forward and watched all the lurking eyes peer upon herself.

" Agent Valhalla." Chrusciel said sitting up from where he was bent over the map with a few of the men. Klimeck tried not to let the idea of her sweaty palms behind her back bother her.

" Sir," she said, " can we speak please?" Chrusciel watched her.

" Of course," he said.

" No," Okulicki stated, eyes watching her own," we don't have time for this Antoni, if she has something to say, she can say it here and now. But we have work to do." Klimeck's gaze was hardened suddenly.

" I think we do have time for this now, sir, whether you like it or not, war is war, it doesn't give you time for nearly anything. You need to expect the unexpected and I'm sorry if you are disappointed in the fact it comes in the form of myself. Get over it." Klimeck's words echoed back to her as the entire room grew quiet.

War's soft clapping from the corner, his cocky grin upon his face was the only show she got of applause.

Chrusciel the only real supporter of Klimeck's efforts cleared his throat and nodded her on.

" I'm surprised you're urging me on when you almost didn't allow members from my unit to venture out and save my duo sent out to alert Headquarters of movement." Klimeck stated. Chrusciel gulped as Komorowski slowly sat up from his position. All of the men in the room were watching her, waiting for her to speak.

" So I took matters into my own hands and sent them out." Klimeck said, " And I don't care, that it is disobeying whatever orders YOU decidedly put out there. You are not their only commander General Chrusciel and I'm sorry, but I am also a leader, a defiant one at that and if I feel there can be saving, then by-God, I will go and save someone. If it means one more life saved in this war then so be it." Klimeck sent her gaze around the room. It was tense, with all their gazes upon her own, watching her and dissecting her and trying to drain each and every bit of her motives out of her. One of the leaders of one of the sections chuckled.

" Oh please, Agent, don't tell me this is simply because this is about your little sister." he said and that earned a few chuckles from some of the men who weren't at the top. Komorowski, Okulicki, Fieldorf and Chursciel were silent. The younger ones spoke as if this were a laughing matter.

" Maybe," Klimeck said, her eyes narrowing, " but it's also about saving a human being's life. Ever thought of that?" Her gaze only grew darker like clouds coming in from a storm cloud.

" My duty is to my country, and I will save every last person that I can, no matter the risk of life or death." she said, before nodding to Chrusciel, " Thank you." Chrusciel nodded, rather amused at the woman. She always could silence a room with a sentence or two.

" Have a nice day gentlemen." she said cooly before turning and swiftly moving out, War bearing his pearly whites as he chuckled.

There was War outside and inside - always.

Klimeck smirked, she didn't win the war, but she'd one the battle.

Ryzshard and Angelika walked side by side through the slightly filled streets of downtown Warsaw, where a vast majority of people stayed and went as it had yet to be overtaken in ruins and destruction. The cool nighttime air was different from the heat of the impending day. It warped around the duo like snakes, and sent shivers down their spines even in the middle of August. Ryzshard couldn't help but glance over his shoulder ever so often.

" Ry," Angelika whispered and he turned to meet her eyes again, swallowing.

" I don't need any of those fucking Nazis creeping up our backs." he said to her, shoving his hands into the pockets of his uniform and not missing the tightening of his armband around his bicep gripping his arm as well. Angelika side eyed him and then averted her gaze forward.

Angelika was almost always worried for Natia - the two women had been friends for quite some time by now, and there was a found sisterhood between the two that had blossomed over a night where Angelika had seen Natia really just breakdown. There was no way she would be held back from going to get Natia and Zdzich. Because something bad might've happened and in war, you always thought of the worst case scenarios before anything - and that's what sucked the worst. Because even then sometimes, they came true.

Angelika took a sparring glance towards Ryzshard, his jaw clenched tightly, worry seeping through his eyes like a river. Ryzshard always had a good heart and still does - and he loves his sisters more than anything - hearing that one was in danger was enough to set him off. It made Angelika feel safe that she was with someone like Ryzshard, because she knew Ryzshard would fight to the death for his friends' lives.

The two made it past the softly glowing down town area before moving out into the darkened, ruined realm of the Old Town - it managed to look like a completely different town in that very moment, the sky a dark twilight, with a few stars in the eerie clouds, random gunshots going off into different sectors around the city, and the ruins silhouetted under the dark sky, shining slightly under the moonlight that dawned upon them.

Angelika and Ryzshard stopped side by side and looked up towards the buildings that were in the square, eyes both searching for the building that was on everyone's mind. Anyone that was sent on Old Town missions was structured to go to the same building each and every time. Ryzshard spotted it first and then glanced towards Angelika.

" Found it," he said and she met his gaze before following it across the way. The building, though bombed out, stood tall under the night sky, the slop of sand to the side, with muddled dips that signaled people had crawled up it. Natia and Zdzich had to be those people.

" Should we cover each other?" Angelika asked and Ryzshard smirked.

" Nah, I'm going to run for it." he said and Angelika narrowed her gaze.

" You asshole." she grumbled and Ryzshard took off chuckling across the barren land towards the building. Angelika met his pace as they hurried across.

" Real genius," she panted out as her eyes zeroed in on the structure in front of them, " I'm almost impressed at the level of stupidity in which you behold."

" Glad something of mine can be impressive." he said back with a wink before hurrying forward. Angelika scowled to herself. The two came upon the very large sand like pile of rubble and quickly began their climb up the hill that lead to the 3rd level by now.

Climbing up the sand was surprisingly the easy part - with no Germans up your back to make your body a speckled target and not hot, scorching sun breathing down your back it was quite nice to feel the breeze pick up and be atop the square a bit. Angelika gratefully took the hand Ryzshard offered and pushed up the rest of the way before she was standing beside him looking out towards the center. Angelika say Ryzshard's face drop for a moment.

" Sometimes I wish this stupid war wasn't even a thing." he muttered, his jaw clenching again, as his eyes narrowed over the sight of the Old Town ruins.

" Yeah, me too." Angelika said as the two stood side by side, watching their little town remain the ruins they were.

" C'mon." Ryzshard said and the two quickly turned and moved towards the staircase - they had to be on the top floor - because if they weren't there where else would they be?

Ryzshard pushed as fast as he could up the multiple flights of stairs, even skipping multiple steps in the process. His worry for his sister only increased at the impending silence that they were greated with on each floor and then it spiked even more once they reached the top, with only the roof to go. Ryzshard grimaced and the pushed up the stairs to the roof and quickly shoved the door open.

Stepping forward he looked around and panic entered his heart, as it beat faster and faster, searching for signs of life in the darkness. Then his head turned and for a moment he stopped breathing and thinking and all he could see was his sister and Zdzich. Their bodies were motionless in the night, he barely even registered the fact that there was more than just a pile of clothes there.

And suddenly Angelika was at his side, watching with the same horrified expression upon her face.

Because there was blood - everywhere.

No spot went untouched by blood.

" Nat!" Ryzshard immediately called out, stumbling forward, his knees scrapping against the ground as he fell by his sister's unconscious side. But Ryzshard's eyes turned horror filled when he noticed the state of Zdzich. He was not alive or unconscious. He was dead, the blood having dried what seemed quite a long time ago, his eyes softly closed, Natia's hand gently cupping his face against her body, which was curled over his own.

Ryzshard's heart shattered and he had to look down for a brief moment, the sight making him feel sick to his stomach partially. Tears welled in his eyes but he let out a shaky breath to calm himself down. He needed to get his sister help and they needed to get Zdzich's body back to the Underground.

It looked like a crime seen - weapons skewed everywhere, the radio on its side, blood spotting the ground and sand, two bodies unconscious and dead on top of one another. All of it. It was horrific.

Angelika slowly dropped to the side of the two bodies and that's when Ryzshard saw tears streaking silently down her own dust covered cheeks - and she made no effort to wipe them away.

Death watched solemnly in his corner, his head slowly and softly dipped, watching the 3 lively forms, mourn that of the dead. He had done his job, but would yet be hated more. It was like when heroes and enemies were killed.

When a hero was killed, Death was hated. When an enemy was killed, he was adored. But in the end they were all just human beings and for both sides, they were each other's allies or enemies. But no one could ever turn upon War in such a way - he made it that way - unable to fully understand Death's job. And Death dealt with it in his own ways. He just did his job.

" Hey, hey, Nat." choked out Ryzshard softly cradling his sister in his arms, pulling her up from Zdzich's dead form underneath her, her dried and encrusted bloody hands, lifeless against his chest, as he pulled her closer, attempting to provide any amount of warmth that he possibly could to her.

" Nat, please," Ryzshard whispered, her pale face under the moonlight barely even twitching as Ryzshard sucked in a cry, his tear filled eyes meeting Angelika's own, " Nat, c'mon, you gotta open your eyes. I can't lose you. I know you're still in there." A sob racked his body when she didn't even shift in his grasp. But he could feel her pulse.

" Nat, c'mon!" he cried, shaking her body under the darkness, " Nat, please, you can't go like this!" His cries were so pain filled, with utter anguish, demons crawling out of his throat into the air, such a pure terror striking his body. She had risked herself so many times that this time she was almost dead now.

" Ry..." Angelika whispered, barely managing his full name, but a quiet whimper left her throat and she couldn't look anywhere but her hands. Ryzshard's heart ached, as he sat there with his unconscious sister in a war torn world.

" Nat, please," he whimpered, softly brushing hair from her bloodied cheek. Zdzich's blood was on her cheek. Or her own.

" Nat.." he whimpered again.

And the way he knew she had awoke, was by the way her face scrunched up in complete and utter grief, and a sob escaped her throat out into the night. It was the first thing on her mind the minute her eyes had opened.

" He's dead," she barely mouthed out, her voice broken shards on the ground, her tiny fists quickly gripping onto Ryzshard's jacket, as she curled to where Zdzich's body was. Her eyes flew open as she rolled from Ryzshard's grasp and she saw Zdzich for what he was. Dead.

" Zdzich!" she cried, crawling forward with whatever drained strength she had left, cries leaving her lips as tears welled in her eyes, " Zdzich!"

" Nat, he's gone...." cried Angelika, " Please, Nat, he's.....he's been gone." Natia had frozen with silent, fresh tears on her cheeks, when another sob wracked her entire body, watching the boy who had cared so deeply, lay dead by the bullets of a Nazi.

" It's all my fault." she whimpered, shaking her head, saliva dripping from her lips, as she sniffled, " If we had moved back quicker, he would be alive. I'm a monster." Natia let out a cry, as Angelika squeezed her irritated eyes shut, hearing her cries and screams out of Zdzich's name. The begging and yearning for him again. The desperation, the crying, the tears, the hiccuping sobs.

A sand covered hand pressed against Angelika's lips as she let her eyes conceal her in darkness. She couldn't bear to look upon the dead anymore - it hurt. After 5 years and it still ached. No one could ever look upon the dead and feel nothing but Death's grip in your soul.

Natia was already dead inside and she still felt the horror grasping at the corners of her entire being. Natia watched herself in the mirror - she could physically see the tears on her cheeks. She could see them all over, on every part of her cheek.

And her eyes held Death's eyes, emotionless and filled with an unsettling darkness that bothered her more than ever. Zdzich was gone.

Zdzich de Ville was completely and utterly gone and now lived only in her memory.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Natia could see herself breaking, her entire wall that she had forced herself behind. Her face crumbled as she forced a hand to her mouth, tears squeezing out boiling hot tears.

" Stop crying," she whimpered shaking her head, " please stop crying." She wanted to stop crying, she wanted to stop the tears and the pain, every ounce of emotions that hurt her entire being more than anything. It was why being numb felt normal, because feeling it all was too much - she could no longer deal with the pain of the world. Numbness was like a drug and it's all she wanted. But for now, all she felt was pain and it'd be something she'd have to live with. Because pain could last for as long as you let it.

And this pain was indescribable.

It was her fault that he was dead.

It was her own fault.

It was her fault.

She was the reason Zdzich was dead.

If she had told him to pull back earlier, if they hadn't bothered with being so distracted, maybe he'd still be alive. Her heart ached more than anything.

Running his body through the darkened streets of Warsaw, her body feeling nothing but a numbing ache as she took step after step forward. Natia could feel the weakness showing, her vulnerability - each and every ounce of it. She was being weak in a war. And weakness caused your untimely death, it always did.

" You did this." Natia whispered to the mirror, her voice shaking looking directly into her own eyes through the reflection, " YOU did this. You got him killed." Natia squeezed her eyes shut, shaking her head, pressing her hands to both sides of her head.

" I did this." she whimpered, feeling herself crumble, her knees turning week as she collapsed to the ground, forcing her back up against the cool concrete wall and letting out sob after sob, each one exploding even more after the next, as she gasp and whimpered like a child.

But that's all she was. A child with her hands tied behind her back, being fed the greed of war and willingly risking her life for anyone and everything. And the blood that had touched her hands, enemy and ally, was enough to make her sick to her stomach. It was all too much.

" Nat?" a voice said softly and Natia looked up to see Angelika there, dried blood down the front of her uniform, hair a mess, eye bags lying gently underneath. Natia slowly, with shaking hands, looked up towards Angelika, shaking her head, as her bottom lip trembled and quivered.

" It's my fault." Natia choked out in a blubbering sob, the hot tears streaking down her face, as her heart was filled with such a painful ache, she wasn't sure if she'd make it until tomorrow.

Oh how she wished to numb herself to stone, but it hurt too much to even freeze herself.

" Nat, don't say that." Angelika whispered softly, tears filling her eyes at seeing Natia so broken, so tattered, so vulnerable, so alone. Natia didn't seem or look like the Natia she was. She didn't look like the Agent she was, nor did she seem like the Cichocienmi paratrooper either. She looked like a scared little girl, finally realizing how cruel the world was when you let it inside. Curled upon the concrete floor, trapped in the prison of war, watching it take and take and take. Natia looked up towards Angelika, shaking her head.

" I'm the reason Zdzich is dead." she cried, her voice shattering, and a raw, painfully emotional and deeply set cry erupting from her throat. Pure pain. And she crumbled, hands pressed into her eyes, sobs crawling past her lips.

" Why can't this war just be over." she whimpered.

Angelika and Natia, though best friends, were sisters with different blood, connected by too many memories and moments, to clasp them by the heart.

And they knew when the other was hurting.

And Angelika knew this was true pain Natia was feeling.

In the past, pain had not been quite like this.

Angelika slowly fell to her knees beside the woman and Natia stared up with big, sad, brown eyes. And Angelika held Natia, the two women holding each other as close as they could in the darkness of the dim room, as War and Death watched on silently.

And for a moment, even War was quiet.

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H I S T O R I C A L N O T E S

> There are no important historical notes pertaining to this particular chapter today! <3

A / N

OH MAN DO I JUST LOVE THIS CHAPTER!! this chapter was highly pivotal for a turning point for natia's already, fairly numb being. this is where her character will slowly start to turn into the one she is when she meets easy company which is SO SO CLOSE AH!!! :) and how she gets there is an even more fascinating and twisting tale....consider me excited for next tuesday's chapters!! ;) thank you all for reading and enjoying - it means the world to me! <3


	16. Death Has A Heart Too

" Even Death has a heart."

_\- Markus Zusak_

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**_Warsaw, Poland - Headquarters_ **

**_September 13th, 1944 - 1900_ **

**_44 days since the Uprising_ **

Zdzich's death had only added to the bearing nature of the war - the innocent died young. 

The Wola Massacre had been occurring all week, as well as the following day, and days after was just another moment in the mix. Wola had always been home, but after reports from Dwad and Angelika, Natia felt she couldn't even step foot in that direction. It was the Nazis' fault, they'd done this, all of this. It was enraging.

The days following, Natia refused meals and instead willed herself on every available mission possible. She couldn't stay in the place that reminded her most of Zdzich - she couldn't deal with the memories of the person who had trusted her in a matter of days and whom she had trusted back. 

Nights alone in the dark streets of Warsaw became the norm and risky courier runs through the daytime became her other occupation. She refused to work with anyone - even Ryzshard. And Ryzshard became her partner in mostly any other scenario. She refused to see another life taken because of her own guilt that had swallowed her whole. She couldn't bear to continue breathing if she knew another life would be taken in front of her own because of her own mistakes. 

She was Death, but she still had a heart. 

Working alone had its benefits for Natia - she never feared losing a life other than her own, and even if she did lose her life, it wouldn't matter. The war consumed her the most at this point, death would soon follow. It was a motto she lived by - it's why she feared it for everyone but herself. She had accepted her fate. Just not everyone else's. 

The weeks slowly crawled by in a muddled blur - the long, aching nights, the solo patrols under the cloudy sky, the gunshots in the alleys, the early morning street fights, the dead bodies littering the streets like it were a prize for the Nazis - all of it managed its way into her brain, but none of it even comprehended anymore. 

Zdzich's death had struck the last chord in Natia's broken heart, too harsh for her to handle. She thought everything had been fine - she hadn't felt the pain digging into her very heart until Zdzich had been killed. 

Only then did her walls build up higher, so high that no one could even get in - but also no one could barely get out, and her hole in the ground grew bigger, deeper, until the sides crumbled in landslides into the dark pit around her. And she was there in the center, with absolutely no escape, no way out, in a forever free fall to Death himself. And Zdzich had lost his life because of it. 

September brought along colder nights and frigid mornings - fires were not allowed on the premise anymore, it was too much of a signal that there were still people alive and breathing. So, they lay huddled in tight packs at night. 

Natia resorted to curling in a corner all alone, and she refused the blanket Klimeck tried to wrap around her like Mom always did. Her thoughts, her feelings, all of it, she wished it would just go away, for it interfered with the war too much. She just wished for a moment it would all stop. 

Everyone had been affected by his death, seeing his body, the blood that hard dried along his clothes, his boyish face permanently frozen - all of it. But Natia - she suffered the most. And they all knew it too. 

By September 1st, it had been 5 years since the war had exploded in Warsaw, Poland, their country under siege by a bigger enemy than anyone could even imagine. 5 years of fighting such a brutal fight and 1 month since the Warsaw Uprising against the enemy had implored. 

For 5 years, they hadn't given up - no - they were fighting for Poland, their Home Land, where they lived, breathed and slept, they would fight for every area of Poland until their dying days. A country taken prisoner by a regime of evil - no country should ever be allowed to do what Germany did to Poland - Natia always thought that and she thought it were horrible. 

Maybe one day, people will look back upon what happened here in Warsaw and learn that this is not a way to wage war, over a country, over humans simply being human. That was no way to wage a war without looking like a mere immature child because you didn't get what you wanted the first time around. No. That was a coward's war. And Poland had suffered long enough. 

So, each day, they fought. In the streets, the rivers, the ruins, they fought. They would never stop fighting. Their forces were by far so much smaller than the Nazis, but it was worth a shot since it was started. 

The airdrop on the 13th came in a fury - from the Soviets - any form of British or American drops had been lost out in no man's land beyond the borders of what was safe enough to bring in. Anything outside the Nazis got. 

Natia ran back and forth through the entrance to the Underground and then back down inside with box after box of supplies, her mind though no silenced by the pounding of her feet. She could physically feel how numb to it all she was. _Yes_. She had admitted a long time ago she was numb, but now she felt it everywhere, in every portion of her body, she could feel the numbness consuming her being. 

She didn't care if she died, she didn't care at all, she was done playing hero. She was tired of playing hero. She was tired of trying and trying and trying again and again and getting absolutely nowhere. Seeing friends die, people she had grown to love, seeing the ghosted faces of prisoners of war, Death peering through their eyes into hers, their limbs barely attached to their body, the stock upon stock of murder weapons - gas, weapons, grenades, explosives, the gunshots in the evening, the bombing in the night, the mass killings at twilight. 

Every hour of the day, someone died, nearly every minute someone lost their life. And yet it wasn't hers. And the guilt was consuming. She had seen so many lives lost and had taken so much more and yet she was still here bearing each and every one. 

Why wasn't she dead yet? She deserved to be dead along with them. 

Death trailed beside the young girl, his drapes swaddled around his figure as he watched her, eyes drowning in a sea of despair with no way out. He felt sorry about the effects he had on people, to someone like Natia, but it was his job, his duty, what order he was given to obtain for eternity. Some people move on, some people die, some people don't care - others grow numb and then feel it all at once. You always feel death whether you're dead or alive. It was his side effect - and he felt it the most. But no one ever understood that. 

Natia tried to ignore her mind - it had grown far to annoying for her to deal with. With no parachutes attached to the packages, the heavy damage was noticeable but everything was manageable and able to be used. You couldn't let things ever go to waste in a war such as this. 

Naita rushed down into the quarters of where Felicjan stood tinkering with Zofia's radio as she hastily attached a bit to the rear side of it.

" Hey! Hey, Nat!" Felicjan called, " I swear Zof, you better take this thing before I take it out into an alleyway and trash it right then and there."

" Alright, alright, calm it buddy." she said and pulled it into her lap as Felicjan shot up like a bullet and hurried over to where Natia had stopped, box persisting within her grasp as he approached.

" German raid, 0300, you up for it?" he asked her and almost immediately Natia's ears perked up.

" Raid?" she asked. Felicjan nodded with a broadening grin.

" Cezar's coming, too, along with Dwad. I guess those two couldn't resist. And of course you know, I could never let off a good raid." he said. He said it with pride too. 

Unlike the rest of them and her siblings, Felicjan hadn't even bothered with her cold shoulder, he just went along with it and bothered her only when needed, and remained as sarcastic as ever. It was like he never really cared, but he had lost his mother to a depressive episode and now his only way to cope was simply to make a joke about quite literally anything - it was the only way to brighten the mood when nothing else could.

" Count me in." she said, enthusiasm lacking in her voice and even that was a cause for concern for him. 

" You okay?" he asked, watching as her eyes met his.

" Yeah, fine, sorry, I just remembered I had to grab a few more packages....up above." she answered.

" Right," he said, " well we leave in about 45 minutes, so make sure you get yourself ready." Natia nodded. Felicjan watched her though momentarily and then titled his head and nodded before walking off. Natia softly peered over her shoulder and watched him go, feet gently dancing upon the floor. Natia's heart sagged and she let out a puff of air from between her lips. 

Heading off, her worn feet managed to carry her up and out of the bunker 5 more times, hauling as much equipment in as she could, dropping it to the floor in the twilight hours before retreating to the sleeping post. 

Many of the younger members rested together in their huddled groups, their bodies tightly tucked amongst each other, a few sucking on their thumbs, innocence swarming their entire being. The epitome of innocence. 

Natia slowly moved through the darkness and felt eyes on her. 

Slowly freezing, her eyes trailed towards one of the mothers, sat up in the broken rocking chair, holding her child gently against her chest, tired eyes watching Natia silhouetted in the night. Natia softly nodded to the mother and the mother gently dipped her head. Even in war, her children were priority - a mother withheld more strength than most. Natia eventually turned from the mother and suddenly all she could think of war her own mother and Natia squeezed her eyes shut. 

Her heart ached, and it was a dull ache that pulsed in every part of her body - it was the early hours of morning of September 14th, 1944. 5 years. 5 years ago, she had watched Death in action in front of her very eyes. And now his presence remained closer than ever. 

The photograph in her pocket burned through the fabric it seemed, but Natia couldn't bear to look down upon them, not today. It would only hurt more. Natia pulled her weapon comfortably onto her shoulder, it's comforting grip around it, her jacket gently tugged around her body, the pistol gently in its holster on her hip. 

Natia quickly gathered her belongings and glanced towards Dwad's stock of weapons near his sleeping quarter - as a tinker he managed to fiddle with just about every weapon he came in contact with and formed it to your specifications, he was good at that sorta stuff. Natia quickly shuffled forward and launched over his bed, pulling one of the smaller pistols from where it lay tattered on its side and pulled it up into her grasp.

" A-ha!" she called, yet almost instantly she heard footsteps and whipped around with horror filled eyes to see Dwad and Ryzshard standing there, eyebrows raised at the barrel of the weapon pointed at their heads.

" I swear, Nat, you've almost taken my head off more times than you can account for now." Dwad grumbled and Natia felt a smirk on her face. 

Something that hadn't dawned on her features since August it seemed. Since _his_ death.

" It's called preparedness, Dwad." she said, before shoving herself up off his blankets and to her feet, sliding the weapon into her pants near the belt, hidden away, " You should learn it sometime." Her eyes moved along his uniform and she raised a brow. Dwad rolled his eyes.

" You're not going." Dwad said and Natia watched him as Ryzshard's eyes widened.

" Whoa, whoa, whoa hold the fuck up." he said and Natia shot him a pointed look.

" Yes I am." Natia countered, muttering under her breath, " For the Commonwealth of Poland." Okay, too sarcastic.

" No, you're not." Dwad told her, his eyes watching hers. Fatherly eyes, big brother eyes, eyes that told her, this was not her task to take.

" It's dangerous, too dangerous for you." Dwad told her and Natia scoffed.

" How would you even know?" she sad. 

" Can someone please tell me what you two are talking about?" Ryzshard said eyes watching both of them.

" The raid of course," Natia said so casually, it was like she were possessed. 

" The RAID?" Ryzshard asked, " Please tell me who thought that was a brilliant title for it."

" I'm going, you two." Natia said, " Why cower in the corner when I can fight?" The two watched her.

" No," they said at the same time and Natia looked at them.

" You sound just like them." snapped Natia, narrowing her eyes, " Just like all of them - I'm a girl, this, you're demoted that, you'll die that. I don't care, we know this. I'm going on the mission." That left the both of them deadly quiet. 

" It's crawling with Nazis, Natia." Dwad said quietly, his gaze darkening, " You know what has happened to any of our female members captured by Nazis." Natia gulped, and met his eyes with her shining was. She knew - everyone knew. 

The Nazis were pigs - they took everything. Natia slowly looked down at the pistol in her hand and watched it glint lightly in the dim light as Ryzshard watched her from a little behind Dwad, his warm eyes watching hers. Natia let out a shaky sigh.

" I won't let that happen." Natia told him, " You know that." Dwad watched her and then shifted his vision back to Ryzshard off over his shoulder. 

Raids were rare among their group, simply because housing at Headquarters usually required a lot of street fighting right around their general assembly area. It never required being out in the quieter, darker, scarier parts of the city where no life except the rats roamed - where the Nazis killed in secret. There was more vibrant life at Headquarters - and with missions all across continental Europe, you were never always in one place. 

Natia had ventured on only a few raids in her time, when she had been younger and naive, her first early days as Agent Fidel, a fresh faced Polish SOE Agent with pride and hope on her shoulders. That had disappeared after the news of what happened to a courier on the mission Natia was on. But this time, Natia was older, wiser, and she knew what Nazis were like - she had swarmed amongst them for years. She knew their motives and intentions - she wouldn't let that get to her.

" Ry, don't give me that look." Natia said watching as her brother's face visibly saddened. 

" I just don't want you hurt." he said softly walking over to her, his eyes watching her own, " You know that." Natia watched him and nodded. She wanted to hug him, she wanted to hold him and make his sad face turn into the happy youthful boy again, but she knew she couldn't harness enough power to do that, not yet.

" I'll be fine," Natia promised him and she wanted him to believe her more than anything. For 5 years she had been fine, this was nothing different. 

Ryzshard watched her and the look in his eyes sent something through her heart. 5 years. They were both thinking of Mom and Dad, and all the memories that had burdened them for too long. Natia softly placed her hand on her brother's shoulder and nodded.

" It's okay." The words were meant for the mission, but they were meant for even greater things as well, things that were unexplainable to many, but noticeable to most. 

Ryzshard watched her and without hesitation became the one to softly pull her into a hug in his arms. Natia was frozen for a brief moment, as Ryzshard wrapped his arms as tight as he could around her, just holding her there, relishing the touch of his sister in his arms as Natia stood, remaining frozen. She hadn't hugged someone in a long time. 

But his embrace only made her think of the way they huddled so close together in the car the following day, as it down poured in the middle of the forest, the fresh Earth scented by rain, as they held each other and cried, and cried and cried. There were too many emotions, too much pain - and now she had to force herself to not feel it as she hugged Ryzshard back. Ryzshard pulled back with a smile.

" I can promise you a beer when you get back." he said with a chuckle as his eyes twinkled. Natia felt a tempting smirk on her lips. 

" You're still underage, Ry." she said and Ryzshard snickered.

" Yeah, yeah, I know. I hear it enough for Zof already, no need to rub it in." Ryzshard said and Dwad snickered quietly.

" Taking shit from a 21 year old are ya, Ry?" Dwad said and Ryzshard's cheeks turned red as he glared up at Dwad.

" What else am I supposed to say? I already do enough illegal things that could get me guillotined in France." Ryzshard complained and in that moment, Natia really laughed, she truly laughed. It wasn't convincing enough to tell herself she was fine...but she had laughed, and it had felt good. 

Natia moved with Cezar, Dwad and Felicjan in at around 0245, under the shadows of the darkened world, the pin-dropping silence wrapping up around the 4 as if it were bubble wrap. One wrong move or shift, and you made a single sound that pierced like a gunshot. 

Klimeck didn't know, Angelika didn't either - only Kaja, Zofia and Ryzshard knew as well as Franciszek who had tripped over a box when hearing the news and had shot near bullets into Natia's head for the reckless decision to tag along. Maybe Natia would grab a few P-38s off the bodies tonight - she could only hope for her ammunition was in dwindling supply and stealing wasn't nice. 

Unless it was from the enemy - at that point it was considered fun. 

Natia kept close to Dwad's back, watching him slowly raise his weapon up to his eye, the fixated scope he had stolen from a machine gun of the Germans a few years ago still resting steady on the hilt. 

Natia glanced back, as a bead of sweat on her forehead danced with the cool night air and her slicked back hair under the field cap, her eyes meeting the glowing, cat-like ones of Felicjan and Cezar who looked like the eyes in her dreams. The ones who watched her like a hawk, preying on every movement she made. But now they were filled with a will to fight and so was Natia. 

Dwad stayed put, peering around the corner of the building before turning back to the trio of fighters behind him. Mixed hand signals left his palms as each one registered in the minds of the ones behind him. 

Natia immediately pushed up from her hunches and hurried around Dwad, propelling herself along the wall down the street, submachine brought out in front of her body, eyes on high alert as she approached the ending corner that was up ahead. Natia arrived and slowed her momentum, until she peaked her head around the corner, a smirk on her lips as if it were some fun game and slowly moved behind it, poking her head out again to where the rest of the boys sat huddled in their group. 

Natia took her scoped glance around - snipers laid practically anywhere and it means if they didn't move fast enough and weren't careful, they'd be shot. Better dead than living in this hell hole. 

Natia then met Dwad's calm gaze and slowly nodded towards him and he nodded back. Dwad pushed up and came quietly across the wall towards her, before coming, and crouching behind her against the opposite wall, eyes moving down the alley way, back to back with Natia, weapon raised. Natia nodded to Felicjan who followed through with similar quick yet more lanky movements in his gate towards her, a smirk on his face. He always found it fun for look as if he were some criminal on the run. Cezar came last, a toothpick playing on his lip as he turned and crouched beside Natia with a grin.

" Took you 3 long enough," Natia chuckled out and Cezar rolled his eyes.

" Yeah if you weren't so slow in the first place." Cezar complained as Natia chuckled dryly. Even her laugh sounded evil. _Purposeful_. She froze for a moment as Felicjan muttered something about pointing up towards one of the bombed out buildings. War-machine. The words followed into her brain like a melody you couldn't remove from your head. 

And suddenly it was like a stab wound, as she looked to her left and envisioned her bullet going straight through a Nazi's head. One of their Generals - she had been the one with the gun. And he had been the on the ground. It was a night just like this, her parents living in her mind through her memories, as she took the gun and used it as if she had been born with it, taking a life to avenge her parent's own.

" Hey, look," Dwad said, peering over her shoulder and pointing up. Natia slowly followed his steady finger and found her gaze up towards in fact one of the bombed out buildings. 

Out of the windows, sat a shiny object - the barrel of a gun. 

Dwad of course could recognize the barrel of a weapon from nearly anywhere.

" Karabiner 98 kurz." Dwad whispered, his voice still steady, " I could recognize it from anywhere." Natia sighed to herself and looked around, before spotting his own scoped weapon. Natia reached forward and, casually, as casually as she could, took Dwad's scoped weapon from his hands and slowly raised it up to the Kar98k barrel.

" Wha-Nat, don't you dare shoot that gun." Dwad hissed, reaching forward, but her rough elbow shoved him back.

" I'm not shooting the damn weapon, Dwad." she muttered, " I'm trying to see better." Dwad grumbled to himself as she squinted her eyes, peering through the scope.

" What do you see?" Feclijan asked sitting forward, " Surely no Nazi because you would've shot it by now." Cezar chuckled from next to Felicjan.

" Maybe," Natia said, her tone serious again, " we can't give away our position not yet, they must be right in this fortification though." Her eyes trailed along the building in which housed the sniper and possibly even more on the surrounding basis.

" Hold this," she said and shoved Dwad's weapon back into his grasp, before looping off her own submachine and racing forward, pulling the pistol from her holster, out under the moonlight, across the dusty streets, their eyes looking down upon the first sign of life in days. Dwad, Feclijan and Cezar sat wide eyed.

" And we're expected to control her?" Felicjan said with a chuckle, " Good luck you two, I can barely control myself." Cezar and Dwad shot pointed looks up to Felicjan who realized it wasn't a time to comment.

" Right, sorry," he said, " I'm not lying." 

" Shut up," muttered Dwad as he watched Natia escape into the darkness of the shadowed building, pressed against the concrete wall on the opposite side of the massive street. Her tiny nod from across the way sent the boys moving. The trio moved out systematically across the road before each crashed beside Natia.

" You're fucking crazy that's for one thing." Dwad said as he barreled lastly down beside her as Felicjan chuckled as if it were a comedy. Natia grinned.

" If I wasn't, where do you think you'd be?" she said as she shuffled forward and peered around - silence.

" What I'd give to know." Cezar muttered as Natia's eyes moved to him with a smirk.

" Dancing with Death I'd say," she said and Feclijan nearly lost it in chuckles.

" Do I have to always be the parent on these missions or can you be mature enough to shut your mouth?" Dwad said to Felicjan who smirked.

" Hey, if I'm gonna die, I'm gonna die laughing alright, groucho." Felicjan said, " Lord knows I'll already be in hell, wouldn't want to take a bad trip there." The trio turned their eyes to him.

" What? You three know it's true c'mon," he complained. Natia just chuckled to herself and turned her gaze back on the silent street.

" We'll have to move." she said, " This isn't good cover. And what we need is inside this place, not where we just came from." The 3 men nodded watching her evaluate. Her eyes looked to her left and she saw the opening, where a door once stood, bombed out by war.

" It's gotta be right through." she said looking upon the three of them again with urgent eyes. The trio nodded. And one by one, they moved through that open doorway. 

The building had been heavily bombed it seemed, the main center of attention for the Nazis it seemed and the center had been completely knocked out - large as it was, it was crawling with Nazi cots and tents set up for sleeping quarters. The halls on either side were battered with bullets, but were easy enough to hide behind when it came to staying hidden. 

The 4 crouched one by one beside each other behind the wall, the fortification between them and the small group of soldiers gathered at the nearby camp. Natia was the only one with a clear enough view to peak around the corner and get a good look. A small fire was in the center of it all, men roaming around it, eating, brushing teeth, laughing with their friends as if there wasn't a war on. But they had just been doing the same. Natia frowned. Natia glanced back at the trio.

" I'm going solo," she said, " don't follow." Dwad raised his brow.

" No, Nat, we're in the middle of a camp-"

" It's okay, it's me." she said with a grin and then shouldered her weapon and took off around the corner ahead, her footsteps light against the concrete, dust covered ground. 

The 3 men watched her go, Death trailing behind with a withered gaze. 

Natia could see the light from the fire, reaching the corners of bombed out sectors of the wall of the hallway, dancing through the openings, as ignorant chuckles left the lips of the enemy. Natia gritted her teeth as she approached the corner and slowly crouched, allowing her head to peak around the corner up ahead. Her eyes narrowed slightly as she stared forward, before it was clear. 

Natia quickly moved to the opposite wall and sent a glance back down towards where Dwad, Cezar and Felicjan were. They were unmoved, but safe for the moment. She nodded before turning and disappearing again. A bitter chill swept the area and Natia shivered a bit at the touch. 

Her instincts proved right - the hallway remained clear and she was able to make it to the opposite side of where she had started, reaching the farther opposite corner. Once she did, she checked her surroundings and quickly slid down the opposite parallel hallway across the majority of the bombed out building to where the boys were. She finally propelled herself to a stop and let her back hit the concrete wall, as she let out a sigh. It smelled like the campfire, the smoke, the ash that rose from the fire the enemy had in the center of their camp. 

And Natia's face twisted, as she squeezed her eyes shut, a pound inciting inside her head as she remembered the smell of the burning bodies, the burning homes, a burning Warsaw in front of her eyes - and she had been powerless against it all. Natia forced her eyes open and felt her throat clench slightly. Pain.

" Stop," she whispered to herself. Not now, anytime but now. She could not have a breakdown because of an enemy's flame. 

Natia forced the image from her mind, feeling as if her brain were on fire, and glanced back over her shoulder, past the cracked breakthrough of the ruins - Warsaw ruins, where the enemy now stood. Her gaze narrowed like the devil, as her fingers reached for the radio at her side. 

Code lay in her breast pocket - each and every mission out included code to be able to break into any radio to contact Zofia's - her and Felicjan had rigged it up together now as mission's grew more dangerous. Natia was thankful for it. Natia slowly pulled her radio up to her lips as she watched the camp in the center of the bombed out building, blinking a few times to clear her vision.

" Clear." Natia whispered through the radio, her voice low and like gravel through the radio to the trio on the opposite side. Cezar had smoke bombs, nearly the entire group had double the weapons and with pinpointed locations, this could be a quick and easy snatch done in a matter of seconds. 

But suddenly, there were hands on her - on her mouth, her radio, her body. 

Enemy hands, Nazi hands - the enemy's hands were on her, pulling her back against his body, as realization slowly hit. 

She wasn't safe, she had been moments ago, but now, she was clasped in the arms of the enemy - her weapon where was it? 

She couldn't tell because of the fact, the hand over her mouth was suffocating. 

She tried to scream out, she tried to cry out, but it remained muffled by the black gloved hand that pressed firmly over her lips and pressed up into her nose.

" Stop resisting!" the man, a Nazi, snapped in her ear in cold, bitter German, in a dialect she had yet to hear in her lifetime. 

She was a rebel, she would never stop resisting the touch of the enemy. Because the discomfort of his hand on her mouth and stomach, holding her against him, trying to keep her quiet was the reason she didn't escape. She almost felt too uncomfortable to fight back. And thoughts of being a female and a rebel flooded her mind - and what normally happened to them and suddenly fear skyrocketed into her system.

" AF?" a voice called through the radio - Agent Fidel - code. _Dwad_. Her pulse began racing. 

" There's more." the Nazi grinned out, as he shoved her body to her feet. 

The minute his hand loosened it's tight grip, Natia grunted and turned on her heel to elbow him right in the jaw, causing him to release his hands from her mouth and stumble back. Her instinct initially was to scream, but then she'd draw even more attention - so her eyes turned upon the radio and her body launched towards it, but suddenly another German voice called out.

" Who's there?" 

A man. 

A Nazi. 

From in front of her now, where the camp was. Natia froze - she shouldn't have frozen, but freezing was her primal instinct, like an ant under a light. And that's when she regretted nearly everything leading up to this moment, when arms wrapped around her waist and slammed her body to the ground, her body crumbling under the heavy weight of the Nazi, the radio out of reach, her P-38 clattering to the ground, and her submachine flying from her shoulder. A groan left her mouth, as her jaw pushed into the hard rock underneath her.

" Tsk, tsk, young one." she heard a man over her say, his boots clicking against the concrete ground, as her hands were roughly pulled by the man who had first attacked her, behind her back. 

Natia was not going to win this fight, not here, not now. 

And suddenly all she could think about as she stared at the lone radio, discarded across the ground, the little red light blinking upon the side, was her parents, who 5 years ago, had been in the exact same situation. Held down by the putrid Nazis, voices muddled by the gunshots that had not bothered for their pleas. 

Natia thought of Klimeck and Ryzshard - her siblings. She thought of Angelika. She thought of Dwad, Felicjan and Cezar. She thought of Kaja, Zofia and Franciszek. She thought of Chrusciel. She thought of the innocent children of the Headquarters bunker. She thought of Zdzich.

" You polacks really are distasteful." the man above her murmured, as she was pulled to her feet, slamming back into the body which had trapped her own, before being forced to stand again. 

Blood was on her chin, it stung in the cool breeze, she could feel it stinging. And her eyes even in the darkness could register the Nazi which held her hands tied behind her back, and the Nazi in front of her, cover removed, looking down at her with a teasing gaze - like she were a child.

" What are you doing so far from home?" he asked as Natia felt anger swirl in the bit of her stomach. 

" This is my home." she spat, blood speckling the side of his face, as Natia refused to let her eyes move from his own, her breathing ragged and deep as the onset of anger flowed further and further through her bones. The Nazi grimaced out a smirk, before wiping his hand across his cheek, a disgusted look on his features.

" How many more of you are there?" the Nazi asked stepping closer as Natia pulled at her hands, but the Nazi behind her back, held them tighter together. 

Natia would never speak of how many more of them there were. She could here the frantic AF calls through the radio still, the blinking red light, all of it. But she would never say that there were more here - never. She would die with that secret buried in her chest. They would have to kill her before she ever revealed if there were more people here. She stayed silent, her gaze curdling enough to make the Nazi who watched her glance away briefly.

" She had a radio, sir." the one man said with a nod, a slight chuckle leaving his lips. 

" A radio is that right?" the man in front of her said. Natia watched him, refusing to open her mouth as she watched him bend down and take the radio into his hands.

" AF! AF!" the frantic voice called in Polish. The Nazi smirked, his eyes on the radio before he turned upon Natia.

" How many others, girl, it's not that hard." the Nazi said, impending frustration building in his gaze. She stayed quiet. She refused to open her mouth again to him.

" Stubborn you are." he said, with a drawl of his lip before clicking the radio. The second he did, Natia unclenched her jaw.

" Run!" Natia yelled, her voice flowing through the radio and into the ears of the 3 men on the other side, " Run!" She yelled it in Polish, twisted with French - they would understand. The Nazi clicked the radio and turned to look at Natia.

" Well whatever language you speak, it won't matter where those you called to disappear to, it seems we have the leader right here." the Nazi said and Natia sucked in a breath, her eyes narrowing, as he looked to the man behind her, " Get her set for deportation." The Nazi looked at Natia again.

" Such a striking young flower," he said, putting a finger under her chin, making her body freeze at the touch, " such a pity that she might never see the sun again." 

Natia yanked her jaw from his touch, gaze darkening like the night sky. He smirked. 

They had collected her weapons, they had smashed the radio, and by this point Natia prayed that Dwad, Cezar and Felicjan had followed the order and had run, as far as they could from this place. The man had yet to let go of her hands behind her back, so she stood facing the mass of Nazis the stood in the camp, doing the various activities just 10 minutes ago she had seen before capture. 

And she could hear them speaking, each word that left their lips, each word thrown around in German, running right to her own ears - she heard it. 

Polish Woman. Polish Fighter. Female. Beautiful. Pretty. Mysterious. 

And the fact they hadn't killed her in the first place for any of those factors was sickening to think about and made her want to vomit. 

Finally, the man who seemed like the head Nazi of the quarters appeared from his tent, adjusting his cover and making his way towards her as others whispered watching. Natia kept her gaze on his own - she refused to look down and give the enemy satisfaction of her capture. She'd never give them that satisfaction. For her pride of Poland was too great to bow down to the enemies expectations of their own. Poland had suffered too long for her to slip her gaze below eye level and show vulnerability. 

" And what is your name, Fraulein?" the Nazi asked her. Natia didn't even flinch, her chilled gaze watching his. 

Enough with the Fraulein bullshit already. 

The Nazi chuckled when she didn't answer, ensuing a bunch of laughs around the rest of the camp in their presence. Natia had no reaction to their heartless laughs as she watched the Nazi leader chuckle. 

No leader chuckled like that in the face of their own enemy unless they were a coward. Natia was not discouraged by their laughs, if anything it gave her time to think up some sort of escape plan.

" Make her en route to Kassel - she might be of some use to us." the man said to the Nazi who held her upright beside the one who had touched her chin. The Nazi watched her, as her eyes glowed. She would not back down from her intense gaze which made his own insides turn. She would never reveal one bit of plans for the enemy - she would never betray a soul. She would die fighting and with pride for her country. 

" Hey!" a voice called out, and the group went silent, as through the crowd appeared Felicjan, pistol pointed straight at the Nazi commander. He stood quietly, gaze on the Nazi, weapon barrel steady as he watched the group of 4, soldiers all around, moving to capture him as well.

" No," the Nazi commander said, raising up his hand to stop them, " we should see what he has to say." Felicjan's face turned dark. Was it all just a game to them? 

" Let her go and we don't ever have to speak of this." Felicjan said and Natia met his eyes, holding their gaze. She shook her head as pain filled her heart, watching him with only a pistol as his defense. The Nazi chuckled.

" Lower the weapon and then maybe we can discuss further." the Nazi said and Felicjan's grip on the gun tightened as well as the clenching of his jaw. He knew what risk this was and what it could lead to in the end. It was always on all of their minds.

" My weapon's fine here thanks, it quite likes being held above the waist." Felicjan answered back making the Nazi chuckle again.

" You clearly have never met someone of our kind." the Nazi said with a chuckle stepping forward, causing Felicjan to bring his weapon firmer again.

" I have and I put a bullet in their head. They were quite gullible people actually. It brought a bit of joy into my life that you all but ripped from my own." Feclijan spat and the Nazi watched him. 

Natia watched Felicjan, as her throat clenched, and her body started to breakdown, panicking, losing her entire mind watching Felicjan step under the eyes of the enemy without fear. It wasn't worth the risk of now two lives - why didn't he run? 

But she saw that look in Felicjan's eyes - sacrifice. 

He was sacrificing his life for her own. 

A sacrifice that would mean nothing. 

Another useless sacrifice. 

It felt like her entire body had been gutted by that single look. 

They had all had this talk - about sacrifice. 

But she never thought that one of them would have to do it. 

The pill in her pocket had disappeared. 

And now Felicjan stood, a boy who just wanted others to laugh even in the darkness, with Death as his only supporter.

And when the bullet penetrated Felicjan's body, Natia squeezed her eyes shut. She heard his body drop to the ground, the hard concrete catching him, the pistol in his hand clattering to the ground beside him. And the deafening silence of the Nazi in front of her lowering his weapon and slowly bringing it to his side again, brushing it against the side of his coated uniform and clearing his throat after as if it were nothing. 

But Natia could feel the tears forming into the corners of her eyes, as she forced herself to not show her weakness to the enemy. _Breathe_. She had to breathe or she'd be a goner. And if she died, she wouldn't be able to escape. She refused to die in the arms of the enemy, she vouched for her death to be against them in battle. 

Natia submerged her feelings into the icy pit of her heart - there was no time to grieve when the enemy watched you like a hawk after taking the life of your friend. 

When Natia opened her eyes, her gaze had hardened - they expected her to start crying, to start showing emotion, to start showing the 5 years of grief and pain. Natia did not offer any bit of that. They did not deserve to see how she grieved for lost friends. 

Natia didn't dare lookin the direction of Death with Feclijan in his arms - she couldn't bare that. But she kept her gaze on the Nazi's own who watched for a prickle of weakness to leave her body. She stood firm watching him right back.

" What's that in your eye?" he asked her as Natia met his own.

" The natural reaction to trying to get the stench of your breath from my vision." she said cooly, her German surprising a number of the men. And she speaks. The Nazi leaned back, chuckling slightly as he looked around at his men, a pitiful look upon his lips.

" They'll like her up in Kassel." the Nazi said, " Load her up into the transport." 

" Yes, sir." the man who held her said, as his grasp around her wrists and the rope tightened further, " When shall we dispose of her body?"

" You'll have to see what they say up in Kassel before that, she is quite a feisty one." the Nazi said to him. Natia grumbled, but kept her eyes straight and alert. 

Don't give the enemy satisfaction in your own defeat. 

And as Natia was led past Felicjan's body she saw Death watch her, as he held his dark fingers to his neck. No pulse. but Death watched her. And the gentle nod was lending enough to keep her with her chin prideful above him as one of her best friend's bodies lay dead. Grieving would come when the enemy wasn't breathing down her neck. 

The tears, the pain, the look on his face when he fell to the ground. It would all hit her soon enough, but for now, War was like a demon in her mind. A war-machine, attracting each and every aspect of War. 

Natia would never bow below the enemy, not even in the face of Death. They had gotten their death, the enemy had gotten their death. She was alive, that was the passage Felicjan had given her and if he were still here, if he were beside her with that dorky grin, he'd be saying the same thing. Keep going for no one but you now when all you see is evil. 

And she did, praying Dwad and Cezar had managed an escape and could manage something for the death of Felicjan, but she kept walking, pride on her shoulders, just enough to keep her under the radar, but enough to leave the rest of the camp in silence once she was marched to the transport. 

The power of no words, but an angry set of eyes. 

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H I S T O R I C A L N O T E S 

> The Wola Massacre occurred from August 5th to August 12th in the summer of 1944, where the systematic killing of 70,000 to 90,000 Poles of the Wola suburb of Warsaw occurred. It was ordered by Hitler himself, where it was an attempt to stop the Warsaw Uprising from continuing. 

> Airdrop from Soviets September 13th, 1944 was apart of the Warsaw Airlift that occurred for 57 days from August 4th to September 28th. On the night of the 13th, the Soviets underwent a resupply mission where a majority of things ended up being dropped into German hands with only a few things managed by the Allies. 

> Karabiner 98 kurz (Karabiner 98k) or often abbreviated as the Kar98k is a bolt-action rifle that was the standard service rifle by the German Wehrmacht - this is the gun, Dwad Pilecki, the weapon's manager can easily spot out. 

> Natia hears she is support to be taken to Kassel - Kassel if a city of central Germany in an urban district in the state of Hesse. Military headquarters of the Wehrkreis IX were stationed there and it was also an important interchange for railways and roads. 

A / N 

_AH HELLO!! welcome to my 3rd, double update - i'm very excited for the direction we are currently moving in, if you can't tell already LOL!! let's just say after these two chapters, you'll begin to see how natia gets with easy AHH!! i'm super excited for the next chapter and where natia is headed - can i just drop a hint? "PROLOGUE" LOL!! <3_


	17. A Hidden Grievance

" To have a grievance is to have a purpose in life." 

\- Alan Coren 

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_**Warsaw, Poland** _

_**September 14th, 1944 - 0400** _

_**45 days since the Uprising** _

They didn't strip Natia for anything as they threw her, hands tied, into the back of the transport, a truck with a Nazi symbol on the side - the swastika. And they had slammed the door right in her face, leaving her in complete and utter darkness. It smelled like Death. Like bodies and blood and disease and feces. 

And suddenly Natia knew she wasn't alone. 

But she was the only one alive too. 

She knew a dead body from a live one because the only warmth that filled her bones was her own. 

And Natia knew that all faith was not yet lost. 

She wished the pill was still in her pocket - she could've gotten her death over with. 

The pistol in her pants lay in wait, the map by her pocket side as well as the code for radio hacking. And they had her submachine - and she'd get it back as well. Only in death would she part from that tiny little submachine. 

So when they started driving, Natia started planning in the shadow of the darkness of the back of the vehicle. Her mind tumbling, thoughts upon thoughts wandering her mind aimlessly as she tried her best to push Felicjan's death. She kept blaming it on the fact that it was because she didn't want her enemy to see the fear, the weakness, the complete and utter vulnerability that laced her eyes. But deep down she felt it even worse. 

That she was too far gone into her numb world to ever return. That even the death of a best friend now wasn't enough to shatter the icicles on the inside of her gated soul. 

Escape. Focus. 

They drove for 4 hours - they got the break. The enemy. She didn't, locked up in the dark back of the vehicle with the feint filter of light which trickled in from the slips of the top and bottom of the door. That was it. 

Enough reflection for Natia to know that there were Allies in the back of this vehicle - dead ones - but Allies in spirit. They traveled another 3 hours before they took another break. Dehydration helped her more than ever - even though she felt nauseous, she didn't have to use the restroom. She just hoped that once they stopped, this plan would work. She never knew the Nazis could be as incompetent as they were. Maybe they were just excited to get a female like herself in their grasp. It would be their downfall.

They had let something like Dunkirk go, her feeble body would be the same. It turned night again simply because she couldn't see the ghosts of faces anymore on the bodies that sat with her in the back of the vehicle. She knew she was no longer in Poland - she was in Germany. 

The atmosphere was different, all of it. It was tense and terse, and it smelled exactly like what she figured it would. Like the enemy. 

When the truck finally lumbered to a stop, it was oddly quiet. She heard birds and crickets. A forest. Immediately all her senses heightened and fear warped her body. Where was she? 

Kassel was a city, not a forest in the middle of nowhere. Natia glanced at the gated door for a moment before she shuffled to her knees and forced her arms and hands under her knee caps until they were up in front of her. 

As her hands squeezed together, she managed to pull the pistol from the front of her pant side. She couldn't check for ammo, there wasn't time and it would take too long. She had to wish that she had stocked a few extra bullets inside. She always did. 

Natia was vastly surprised she had yet to panic. Maybe because she believed she could make it back to Poland, to her friends and family and they could end this Uprising and war and everything would go back to normal. Curse her for still believing this would all be over in the blink of an eye. 

Natia held the pistol in front of her, aimed right where the person's head would eventually be when the door's were opened. Her grasp was shaking, she knew it was. But with no food, sleep or drinking and pure fear that she tried to stuff deep down inside of her were the results of that. She heard the metal click and squeak, the latch being pulled open the Nazi voices on the outside getting louder as the barriers were pulled away. 

Natia remained hidden in the darkness, with Deaths drapes, eyes narrowed. 

And the second the doors were pulled open, her bullet found a new home in the Nazi's head. 

And so did the second and third bullets that ripped from her pistol into the other two's heads. 

And the echo in the damp forest was enough to signify that there was nothing else around. 

Why were they in a forest? Under the starlight sky of the moon and terror of war? Natia knew she was past gone when she didn't even try to make it look like she was the one that had shot, she let the bodies remain where they were. After the torture she was put through and Felicjan's death, they deserved to let their bodies out in the open and cold as such. 

The Earth smelled fresh in the forest, away from the ruins of Warsaw, the burning death of others and the sounds of gunshots in the night. This was different. There were trees instead of ruins and all she smelled was Earth, the dirt, the fresh air, and all she heard were crickets in the night and the whisper of the wind through the leaves of the trees overhead. It was oddly peaceful. 

And she stood there for a moment, trying to register everything in her mind for once. But she was still spiked with adrenaline. The entire drive she had not thought about anything but her final destination - not her siblings, not Felicjan or Zdzich, not any of her friends, not even her parents. She had thought of her escape plan, her duty and her mission. 

The sun must've just began rising again by the looks of it as the sky was beginning to glow a bit around the horizons. And her mind went through the list in her mind. Kassel was closest to France, Beligum and Holland - the Maquis, the French Resistance, the Belgian Resistance and the Dutch Resistance. She had her options. She truly was gone. She hadn't thought twice about killing and now with her survival at stake she was already opening up the options of other resistance groups. 

But one of them at least had to be of aid to her, she knew that much. 

They were Allies no matter if they had been working together the entire war or on other sides of Germany. They were all enemies of Hitler and of the Nazis. It was all they had left by 1944. 

Natia immediately stripped their bodies of whatever they had on their beings. Grenades, weapons, maps, ammo, anything that could be of use to her in anyway possible - even the keys to the car. They could make an easy stabbing knife. 

She liked knives. 

The rope around her wrists she had long ago severed off and was left with the red, throbbing burn marks that lay behind as a firm reminder of the grip on her. Her weapon was on one of the younger ones she had shot - he had it on his shoulder like it were a trophy. She ripped it quickly off of him and securely it onto her own. He was not worthy of her weapon that did not belong to him. The map was crinkled in her front pocket and pulling it out, she managed to find Kassel on the map as well as her closest allied command country. 

On this back country road though, the sign nearby didn't dictate that she was in Kassel at all. Natia slowly approached the sign by the vehicle, narrowing her eyes in the darkness as she approached it and read the words scrawled across it.

" Holland." she whispered, her voice thin, " 2 kilometers." Natia swallowed. Where had they been taking her in the first place? Natia slowly turned and glanced back down the road towards where they had previously come from. Why hadn't they stopped in Kassel? 

Natia sucked in a shaky breath and turned hurrying to the driver's seat, yanking open the door, and searching the entire area for evidence. Why weren't they in Kassel and in the middle of a forest 2 kilometers from Holland? Sweat trickled down her cheeks, as she hurried back over to the 3 bodies scrawled across the ground. She saw something shiny on one of the wrists. A watch. The time. 

Natia knew it had to be the early hours of the 15th - they had traveled all day and now it seemed all night as well. Natia was quick to rip the watch from his wrist, the shiny metal dangling in her grasp as she stood above the dead enemy, a scowl on her lips.

" You're not worthy of this." she whispered, shaking her head as his pale face, life drained by Death himself, " after everything you all did, you don't deserve it." Natia was quick to wrap the watch around her own wrist and tighten it accordingly. 

Then she stood quietly as a gentle breeze rolled over her face, her hair tickling her skin. A rebel on the run with the blood of her enemy on her fingertips. For her country she'd bear it. Natia stooped down to pull the knife from one of their pockets and pull it up in front of her face. Her hair was too long, too recognizable by the enemy - it would have to go. Natia let out a shaky sigh and shook her head gently, before bringing up a strand of hair. 

Within 5 minutes, her hair had turned to shoulder length, and though the ends weren't too amazing looking, it would have to work for now, especially in war. The extra pieces of hair she went and scattered in the grass, moss and trees to rid the best she could of her path. At the same time, she didn't care if they knew it was her though, if anything she wanted the Nazis to know that a young Polish Resistance fighter had killed 3 of their own because they were to oblivious to strip her completely for all weapons - to show that the rebels still had some fight left in them. 

And Natia left the scene behind her in the early hours of the morning with pride. She would never let the enemy deter her from battle, from her country - she would never have any of it. The forest on the edges of Germany that slowly spread into the forest on the edge of Holland was unsettling. 

Each tree she moved around, her eyes were darting around for signs of a looming enemy, a gun pointed at her head, all of it. She awaited to cocking of a weapon at her head. 

Death watched the woman throughout the day, his cumbersome presence never failing to leave her side. He noticed how cautious her footsteps were, how she kept her submachine out at the ready almost constantly, her pistol tapping on her belt, her eyes wide and rather alert, her head down, hair pulled back from her scarred and slightly bruised and bloodied face. 

Death thought she looked like a wild animal in a way, which made him saddened a bit. He quite liked following along with the young Resistance Fighter but watching her now, so out of her very own element was jarring enough. 

Death had never worried before for anyone but now with Natia Filipska he did perhaps worry quite a lot. He didn't want to have to involve himself with any altercations that happened to occur while in her presence, but he figured that he might as well if needed. 

Death knew of why she needed to get to another Resistance - she was now too vital to the Ally and the Enemy. 

With information on the Warsaw Uprising, the Holocaust, and the secrets of the Germans, having stepped inside many of their homes more than once, she was vital to all.

And yet now, she was kept secret in the woods of Holland, moving along the dirt and cobblestone road to her left. 

And if she could alert other Resistances of the horror of the Uprising, she might just be able to save them again and save herself. Death knew Natia had the power to do that. 

By mid day, Natia had been going since 0600 and now the sun filtered down through the trees onto her head, warming her body until she felt she would nearly pass out. That's right - she hadn't had food or water since a few days back or even a proper sleep and now she would suffer. Natia cursed to herself as she came trampling over a hedge and jumped over a few of the mud pits that littered the area, her head becoming heavier and heavier with each and every step.

" Stop," she whispered to herself, feeling her throat growing even more parched for the constant racing through the trees, the pollen layering her throat like honey, her head pounding, dancing with the stars that twirled in her eyes. Her back rubbed down along the bark of the tree, and she looked up towards the sun which chased through the leaves onto her body warming her up more than she should've been. 

It felt like a fever, with the way her forehead boiled, and the sweat covered her body, and she almost felt dizzy on her two feet, or felt slightly sick to her stomach. Or maybe it was just because she was an idiot and should've taken better care of herself. She was in a war, that would come later. 

Natia squeezed her eyes shut as the world spun on its axis it felt and tried to get herself to her feet, before she fell back against the tree bark again, her mind thudding around in its cage again. She had to get moving, she couldn't just sit here, she had to move. 

Natia forced herself to try and stand again, but her head knocked against the rough bark again and Natia groaned in frustration. Lost, in the middle of Holland, in the middle of a forest next to a field with no one around. It was all too much to take in and try to even comprehend in the first place. And the more frustrated she grew, the more she felt like she were about to pass out, the exhaustion, the anxiety, the stress, the sleepless nights, the no food or water, all of it, was finally arriving inside her brain in that very moment. 

And once her eyes started fluttering and the heaviness that encompassed the out of body experience was enough to send her eyes shut and her body slack up against the tree. Death's presence faded slightly as he watched Natia fall unconscious in front of him. 

Her battle was not yet over. 

When Natia's eyes opened next, she was staring at a concrete ceiling and her entire body was encased with sudden warmth that she had not felt for quite sometime. And instantly her mind went into panic mode. 

Where was she? 

What is she doing here? 

Where is here? 

How did she get here? 

Where is her gun? 

Her map? 

Why is she on the ground? 

It was like a wheel in her head, spitting out information every 5 seconds, a new question moving through her mind each and every time. Her throat hurt, her head pounded and she felt like she was floating almost. There was a blanket over her, she could feel the fabric on her uniform - her shoes were off as well leaving her stocking feet exposed. And there seemed to be a warm compress underneath, it was hot, like a fresh, warm blanket. And under her head there was a fluffy pillow, it wasn't the cold ground that surrounded her. Her hands were warm as well, red hot it seemed. Her body was not used to feeling such warmth in a cold, desperate world such as this. 

Natia slowly moved her head and saw two women sitting at a tiny table in the corner, eating bowls of some sort of liquid, orange bands strapped around their biceps as well, voices hushed around the tiny candle in the middle of them. 

One was an older woman, with bleach-blonde wry hair, a few wrinkles on her face, like under her eyes or across her brow, and her eyes gently watched the younger woman in front of her speaking quietly. The other was the young woman, light brown hair pulled back in a clip from her face, youthful eyes, a gentle smile, and she was bouncing her leg up and down incessantly. 

They hadn't seen Natia yet - Natia let her eyes travel around, searching for her jacket, her weapon, her map, all of it, her set of boots. They had to be somewhere. Her eyes zeroed in one the pile by the foot of the bed - her things. They were all neatly folded up together, her boot laces were untied, her weapons lay side by side together, her map folded on top of her clothes and her Kotwica lay on top of the map, laid gently atop it all. 

Natia's eyes carried her back to the side of the bed and she saw a cracked bowl of water and a beige wash cloth hanging off the edge. Natia's eyes carried her back towards the table where the two women sat. And suddenly brown met blue and the older woman's eyes were on here.

" You're awake!" she called in broken English, sitting up quickly from her chair and racing over to Natia who lay curled under the blanket. 

Almost immediately Natia tensed and shuffled away, as the woman slowly bent down at her side. Natia's back hit the cool wall, and her breathing became ragged as she sat there watching the strange woman kneel before her, with soft, gentle yet wise eyes.

" It's okay," she said and then brought up another bowl that sat next to the bed, " You are hungry?" Natia stared at her, dead quiet, chest rising more rapid than it should've up and down, over and over again as she watched the woman with wide eyes. 

Natia could see in the background, the younger woman approaching the two, youthful and hopeful eyes watching behind her, her expression welcoming, almost fascinated with the woman, shoeless, on the bed on the ground.

" Get the ottoman." the woman said turning to the younger girl behind her. The younger woman with the brown hair turned and pulled over an ottoman beside the bed.

" How about you here, can sit, it's much more comfortable than ground." the younger woman said with an excited grin, " Then you can eat." Natia watched them, her eyes slowly moving back and forth between the two, an uneasy tension seeping into her veins as they sat there.

" You are apart of the Polish are you not?" the older woman asked her, the cup sitting in her hands, steam rolling off the top as she watched Natia. Natia stared at her, of course they knew, her armband, marked up map and uniform coat sat not too far away - of course they knew. Natia didn't answer.

" Let up will you? She seems in enough shell shock as it is." a new voice said entering the premise and the two women turned, as Natia met the eyes of a younger man, with piercing brown orbs, a darkness in his vision, and an unsettling aura that radiated from his body. 

The young man's hair was that of dark chocolate, and his slightly tanned skin showed that he was a worker - his coat covered in some dirt and speckles of blood was a show of it.

" They need you two in the room," he said, his eyes catching Natia's tense ones again, before meeting the older woman's, " now." The older woman turned to Natia and softly smiled.

" Here," she said, placing down the bowl to lean forward and help Natia get situated in the chair. 

And Natia let her motherly touch guide her to the comfortable ottoman, before wrapping the blanket around her shoulders and tucking it in comfortably. And Natia let her. And the minute the warm soup was gently placed into her hands was a comfort she never knew she'd miss before. 

Like when she were sick as a child and her Mother would cook her famous wedding soup for the family on colder nights, listening to music on the radio as Dad would sit at the table admiring the gentle humming of his wife. 

Natia blinked a few times to rid her mind of the memory and then looked back up as the woman stood to her feet again. In that moment, Natia noticed the clothed door on the opposite wall, and the gentle breeze that blew against it every so often, and the voices that slipped past afterwards. 

There were others, on the other side. 

Natia's eyes made way to their orange arm bands again - the Dutch Resistance, it had to be, but where was here?

" Wait here, we'll be back in a moment." the older woman said, walking over towards the young man who stood tensely by the clothed door. Natia watched her with a quiet gaze as the young woman glanced at her with an encouraging grin.

" You can eat, it's okay. It's good, I promise." she said with a grin before following after the older woman. 

The two women slipped behind the curtain that the young man held up, before the young man glanced towards her.

Natia kept her gaze neutral - there was no fire, there was no ice, pure neutrality. 

She was no one. 

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H I S T O R I C A L N O T E S

No important historical notes for this chapter!!! :)

A / N

SOOOO.....are things starting to connect LOL?! I AM SO EXCITED!! I am so so excited to bring you friday's chapters - you won't want to miss it ;) this is where the real fun starts! thank you all for reading and deciding to take on this journey with natia - she is a joy to write and i am so so excited to continue updating this book!! happy reading!! <3


	18. The Song of Static

" After silence, that which comes nearest to expressing the inexpressible is music." 

_\- Aldous Huxley_

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**_Eindhoven, Holland - Dutch Resistance Bunker_ **

**_September 15th, 1944_ **

**_0300_ **

**_46 days since the Uprising_ **

The gaze of the young man was not one to fear. He was hiding his own paranoia deep-seeded within him. She was not blind to that. 

Eventually, the young man slipped inside and disappeared into the void of voices and cloth doors. 

There was a map, behind the cloth, hidden beneath the shadow that flocked to it. A map, as big as that, meant she could find her way out, an escape, safe passage back to Warsaw from wherever she currently was. 

Natia's gaze turned cold and suddenly she was looking down into the soup again - she had let down her guard in front of the tender woman. She had let her gates fall for a moment and let her help her to the ottoman, and gently hold her shoulders and let her push a cup of scolding hot liquid into her hands. And she had taken it. 

Natia sat numbly, her eyes blank, her face emotionless, her body giving slight tremors every so often as her body adjusted to the warmth. What had happened? She remembered passing out, she remembered how she had felt - she had felt sick, and she knew it had been from having no food or water or taking proper care of herself. 

And now Natia was an escapee - this was even worse than she could ever imagine and now that weight rested on her shoulders. 

They would find out she was gone now, that she had killed 3 of their men, and they would come for her. She was screwed. But her mind chose not to think on that and all but sit still and listen to the voices. 

They spoke Dutch, clear Dutch, confident Dutch. She was definitely in the hands of the Dutch Resistance - not the biggest comfort, for she did not know them, but the comfort that this was not the enemy. The voices were overwhelming yet again but she knew a confident voice from a cowards. 

Slowly glancing again to her left, Natia looked towards where her pile of belongings was - the folded pile that awaited her touch. 

Placing the hot bowl down onto the ground again, she let the blanket fall from her shoulders and quietly crept towards her weapon on the floor, which had long ago slipped from her shoulders when she had first arrived here - wherever here was. 

Natia hauled the submachine up and into her grasp, her eyes traveling the length of it. The condition was the same as it had been before, still in proper working order. Natia reached down to pull her jacket on up her arms and over her shoulders, willing a glance back towards where the Dutch were, hidden behind the thin cloth that protected the large map on the inside. A rather large map with pop ups and layers. More advanced than any map she had seen before. She would set her eyes on that map soon enough. The tiny map she had drug around Poland and now into Holland, she pushed, crumpled away into her front pocket with a slight, stiff grunt before glancing at her weapon again. 

The P-38 quickly found it's way into her hands once the submachine rested comfortably upon her shoulder. Just as quick as a flash of light, voices entered her ear waves and she knew them. 

Those voices. 

Dutch voices. 

Coming her way. 

In an instant as the ruffled cloth moved, she was turned, her pistol aimed right at their faces, eyes maliciously cold and distant staring at them with an unearthed expression. 

There were the 3 of them standing there, the 2 women and the young man, their hands held up, a broken tea glass on the floor, wide eyes staring down at her. The leader was evidently the woman, the one who had let her sit on the ottoman, who didn't show as much fear as the other two - she was also the oldest and had the wisest eyes - her hands also weren't shaking. The other woman by her side, must've been the youngest, with her rumpled clothes, hair styled in that of a young teen's - she withheld the widest eyes - she was the youngest. The male, the one with the cold gaze from before, by the other side of the woman stood with steady hands, slightly shaking just a bit more than their leader's, and she noticed that he was staring directly at her, a hardened expression underlying his wide eyed facade.

" Are you feeling alright?" the woman with the motherly gaze asked her. 

Natia knew her murderous glances leaving her brown eyes every second, pulse after pulse, was in no way helping the situation - she had just been strewn across the ground with no signs of a will to fight in her now - now there was a pistol pointed at their heads.

" Where am I? How did you find me? What am I doing here?" she spit out quickly, back to the three who stared at Natia, mangled in her appearance, finally speaking in a language they understood - almost perfect English, the kind the British spoke with. Natia narrowed her gaze, watching the three, her position frozen, the barrel steady. Natia was not keen on waking up in an unknown area - pointing a weapon at her victim was her only defense. 

" Eindhoven, we found you just outside of town, passed out in a bush - it's why you woke up here." the younger woman said with a slightly more hopeful smile. What hope she still had.

" Why did you take me?" Natia asked persistently again.

" If we hadn't take you in, you would've been dead, gone to the Germans by now." the man said and Natia narrowed her eyes.

" No." she said. The man raised a brow.

" To even get there in the first place, I shot 3 to escape my death - I could've handled myself." she said firmly, her gaze growing colder - she was growing more fed up. The 3 Dutch were silent watching Natia fail to lower her weapon.

" We're Allies, right?" the young woman asked as the man shot her a look. 

" Quiet, Anouk." the man snapped and then the young woman, paled, looking down as Natia watched her, with narrowed eyes.

" Why'd you tell her to be quiet?" Natia asked, looking towards the man with a passive-aggressive glance. 

" I-"

" We are Allies right?" the Polish woman said quietly. The man stared at her coldly. 

" Yes," he said.

" Then why'd you tell her to be quiet?" Natia asked him again. He stared.

" Well than whatever it is, it is for the same reason I still have this weapon pointed at your head." she explained to him, cutting off his bullshit explanation that would roll from his mouth, just like many of the others. It was tense in the room, too tense, but not for the Polish Resistance Fighter. 

Tension had been thicker in her waters. The 3 Dutch stared at her.

" We can trust each other, you know?" the woman who was the presumed leader proceeded to tell her. Natia stared. You don't trust someone you just met. She had made the mistake before, never again would she do that and see them killed before her very eyes, by the enemy she so wished to defeat. 

But that was Agent Mortem speaking - that's what he had told her - this was a circumstance where it seemed trust was all she needed.

" I've never trusted anyone all my life." she answered back to the leader - a slight lie, there had been a few she had trusted, but she would never reveal that to someone she did not know nor trust herself.

" Well don't you have parents, siblings, friends?" the young woman behind her asked. Natia's eyes narrowed dangerously and it seemed to set back all the looks of the 3 Dutch citizens.

" The Nazis were the ones to take them from me." she spat as if it were acid in her mouth, a distasteful look in her eyes. The 3 were silent watching Natia. She slowly stood to her feet, weapon aimed right at the 3 Dutch citizens, gaze unwavering, like a thick layer of immobile ice. 

" Show me your map." Natia said, weapon aimed at the eyes of the lead female.

" No, you're hurt, you're delusional, we're not showing you the map." the man spat stepping forward. The butt of the pistol was almost immediately on his own eyes. He slowly stepped back hands up. Natia's gaze slowly narrowed watching him. She was anything but hurt - and none of these 3 understood what true hurt was. 

" Have you ever broken ribs?" Natia asked him. He stared at her.

" No."

" Didn't think so." she said and smoothly stepped past them, her weapon training on them as she moved towards the clothed room.

" I wouldn't-" Natia ignored the young woman's pleas and pushed open the clothed over doors to reveal a few other males on the other side - more Dutch Resistance Leaders. All 5 sets of eyes that were inside, slowly turned to meet that of Natia's. 

" What do you think you're doing?' one of the older ones said stepping forward.

" Show me the map," she said, pulling up her submachine gun, so both butts of weapons were on people in either room.

" Silly girl," the man closest to her scolded, " what would you want with a mere slip of paper?" It was as if he were mocking her. Her gaze narrowed coldly, even colder than before, like ice. 

" You three," she called out to the other room, refusing to move her gaze from the current 5 in the map room," walk directly into the room and if you even think about turning and running, I won't hesitate to shoot you." 

They might've been Allies, but she trusted no one just yet - she never could anymore it seemed, even if they were Allies.

It was dead silent, before hearing the scuffles of feet into the room, the 3 Dutch members shuffling over quickly behind that of the rest of the men, watching her with wide eyes. Natia's pistol didn't leave them, as she slowly slipped her submachine weapon over her shoulder, her gaze unmatched.

" You," she said, her head turning to face the man who had called her a girl," over with the others."

" Excuse me? I am not going-" Natia's pistol was on his eyes in minute, her finger hovering on the trigger.

" Go." she snapped, like lightning in a storm, " Right. Now." The man stared up at her from the butt of the weapon. And it only took a second for him to shuffle around her, hands up towards the other side, cowering right beside everyone else. 

Natia had Nazis before at their feet in front of her, with weapons pointed at their own heads. 

People who were Allies were nothing in this moment. 

It felt everyone were enemies. 

_Loneliness and sleep deprivation brought upon that._

" The map, what is it of?" she asked, weapon on them still.

" Holland, the area around Eindhoven." one of the young males squeaked out. Her eyes were aflame. Her blood ran cold, her eyes narrowed, like a hawk eyeing it's next prey.

" You're still under Nazi control." Natia confirmed, her voice firm. They all nodded in a sort of agreement together. Natia had not realized these people were still under control just like Warsaw, fighting each and everyday for their lives in this horrid war just like herself. Natia slowly lowered her weapon and suddenly the rough tension that filled the room disappeared. 

" Who are you?" the young woman asked her. Natia looked their way.

" And why would I tell you that?" she said.

" I thought we were Allies." the man who already had made her mouth taste as if it were poison. Natia narrowed her eyes.

" You can trust no one in war," Natia said, " we're merely all just humans fighting it." They stared at her. Natia wished to tell these people, her presumed Allies for the moment, everything that had happened to her, all the horror, the nightmare that had become of her life since only 36 hours earlier. 

But she held herself, her tongue, her speech. She needed a radio instead. 

Natia had her hands on one of their radios within minutes, the pistol glinting in the dim light with a rather trigger-happy woman on the other side was enough to get people moving, no matter how reluctant they were to bring the radio to her. 

Contact Zofia - Natia had all she needed. If she could get on the right radio signal, she could contact her, she could get to her, and she could tell her everything. Natia realized they would all know about her capture as well as Felicjan's sacrifice - Death sounded wrong for him - he sacrificed himself, he deserved that title for what he had done. 

For the Home Army, for Warsaw, for Poland, he had sacrificed. 

Anouk sat beside her, clearly interested in the entire ordeal - a strange woman who was in the Polish Resistance is now on the run and ends up in Holland after killing 3 Nazis. Quite fascinating it seemed for the general majority. 

As Natia tinkered with the radio, she couldn't help but glance up and see the young man with the icy gaze, speaking quietly with one of the other men, letting his gaze travel to her every so often and hold itself there before resuming eye contact back with the man he was talking to. He knew something she didn't, and it was beginning to make her lose her entire mind. 

Contact Zofia. 

Of course these radios were different from the Polish ones, especially the one Zofia used, but Natia needed to make it work. 

As she brought the pair of hearing-buds up to her ears, she gently left the there, before switching between frequencies. Zofia always had the right frequency on the line whether she were sleeping or not even near her radio - someone always heard. Natia softly pressed the hearing-bud to her ear, concentrating hard for any source of sound other than the soft static that greeted her. 

Besides the gentle mumbles from the Dutch in portions of the underground room, it was quiet. And Natia quickly grew anxious - outside of her comfort zone, in a country she had yet to set foot into, in the home of strangers, she was simply just anxious. Her foot bounced up and down, a gentle tapping following in a rhythmic partner, as Natia's eyes grew heavy from sleep, waiting for even just a voice. 

A sound of home. 

Natia sat for another 20 minutes, listening to the signal, waiting for a familiar voice to flow through the static, but nothing came. She tapped the tune of an old song her Mother had long ago taught her on the piano as a small child, but stopped when she realized the corner of her lip had poked up at the simple memory. She let her fingers fall to silence again. 

Finally Natia shoved the headset against the radio and let out a frustrated sigh, drawing the eyes of those around her. Natia was frustrated, at quite literally everything that happened to her.

" Hey," the young woman said - Anouk - as she leaned forward," I'm sure you can reach your friends soon, how about you get some rest, it's quite late." One of the male leaders approached her and nodded to her.

" The young one is right, you were a pretty mess when you arrived to us." he told her and Natia watched him.

" But what if my friends call back thr-" The young woman watched her and shook her head.

" Rest is most important, miss." she said quietly, with wide tentative eyes watching Natia. Natia swallowed and softly glanced back towards the radio. But she felt it all hitting her - the exhaustion, lack of sleep, lack of nutrients, everything, lack of life. But she was so dead, she figured she didn't need much more of it. The male leader slowly bent down by Natia's side and looked up at her with gentle eyes.

" Sleep is the way of life when you can no longer let your limbs guide you, young one." he said and Natia watched the wise man.

" What about for the dead?" she asked him quietly. The man smiled.

" It's eternal." 

Natia was brought to a room in the underground bunking area, windows covered in thick cloths, little potted plants filled to the brim with water surrounding the edges, a small fire in the brick oven in the corner, and the smell of wind snapped wood slowly blowing through. Natia stood in the center of the room, her eyes wandering over the vast parts of the place, not sure where to start. 

Anouk, the young woman, with the wide eyes - Natia hadn't quite caught what color they were - had lead her here and then had let her be. They all figured Natia needed privacy, another human presence, for when she was alone, things turned dangerous within seconds. Except this place didn't seem dangerous. Natia's eyes found the bunk situated against the wall, with one pillow and one blanket atop it. Natia glanced at her watch and found the distressing time of 0400 staring back at her. 

How long had she been out? 

And how long had her ear been up to the radio? 

Natia sighed to herself, letting her bony wrist fall to the side, her eyes glancing up to find someone staring at her. That someone was herself, through a slightly musty and faded mirror on the opposite side of the room. 

Natia watched herself, watched her movement towards the mirror, watched her brown eyes meet the brown eyes of the mirror, making her swallowing. 

Who was this person? 

With crazed eyes, darkening bags drooping down her face, sunken in cheeks, with barely a smile to follow. Hair cut off at odd ends, scars on her cheeks and under her chin, slices of life derived from her being. 

Who was this person? 

This monster? 

Created by War himself to his ideal specifications? 

A war machine. 

Natia's fist clenched up into her palm and to prevent from bleeding she had to slowly let it out again, a shaky breath falling past her lips.

" Excuse me?" a voice called and Natia whipped around, almost too quickly, too instinctively, to face the young man with the darkening eyes who had given her looks the entire time she had sat at the radio. Natia's eyes narrowed.

" What?" she asked and realized her tone was sharper and harsher than she had intended it to be. Natia sighed when she met his eyes again. The young man watched her, almost unfazed. Clearly there was no radio signal - he would've burst through the door or quite possibly Anouk would've, he had entered quietly.

" You never told us your name." he said, his voice gentler now. Natia raised her brow slightly, rather confused. He had been cold, rather bitter and quite rude amongst his fellow resistance members - what had changed?

" And why would I tell you?" she said, crossing her arms over her chest, protective and standoffish suddenly. The young man watched her gently.

" We're not trying to hurt you, we're trying to make sure that if someway in the future we can get you back to where ever you came from we can." he said, watching her with calm eyes, " We're not trying to hurt you."

" What's with the change of heart then?" she asked him quietly," With how rude you were out there?" The man smiled gently.

" Touche." he said with a smirk," They don't know me as a gentle type, so if we could please further the conversation and get this over with, I'll be happy and I'll leave you alone." he said, " I promise." Natia watched him. She wouldn't budge.

" We know you are with the Polish Resistance - you wear their arm band with pride." he told her and Natia narrowed her gaze.

" If you speak in such a way as you do then why don't you tell me your own?" she asked him, ignoring his previous comment. The young man watched her.

" Jozef." he told her with a nod, " I've been apart of the Dutch Resistance since I was 18." Jozef took a seat down on a an old chair and leaned back, placing a smoke on his lip, unlit and turned to her.

" Your turn." he said with a smirk. Natia watched him.

" And how am I supposed to trust you?" she said, " Waking up in an unknown place with no recollection of how I got here?" 

" You know we were the ones that brought you here, deep down you do, you just don't want to admit it." Jozef told her and Natia swallowed thickly watching him. She did - she knew they were the ones that had found her and brought her here. Eindhoven. 

He had been 18 too, just like her. A mere child in war.

" Natia." she said quietly, meeting his gaze, " Natia Filipska. I, too, was 18 when I was sucked into my own Resistance." Jozef met her gaze and for a moment he held it.

" Then you understand how I'm feeling about this all." he said with a slow nod of his head and Natia softly nodded back. 

No matter what country, race, gender, or ethnicity, you felt it as a human being, what this war was capable of doing to another. 

Natia felt it and so did Jozef. 

His eyes were like Ryzshard's, soft, kind, with the same boyish twinge deep down in them that showed he was still just a mere child. Natia looked down at her hands before letting her bottom fall onto the bed, sinking into it, as she sat so still.

" I was an Agent, well I still am, but I try not to refer to myself as one - too much happened in that moment of time where Agent was my only title." she said with a nod, eyes locked in on the color of the floor. 

" SOE?" he asked her and Natia nodded, meeting his gaze across the room.

" Cichociemni after that." she stated, " But once I got back to my Homeland that all but changed. Too many horrible memories surround my time as an Agent that I wish to not remember." Jozef watched her, curious, obviously. 

" I think you should still go by it." Jozef said and Natia cast her gaze towards him, watching the firelight illuminate his face, dancing in his eyes as a smile generated on his lips.

" I can't." she said shaking her head, squeezing her eyes shut. She remembered how many she had killed when Agent Fidel had been the title she hid behind when Natia Filipska had cowered in the corner with Cichocimeni paratrooper who had hid amongst the shelves of war. 

Agent Fidel had been a murderer and had seen it in plain sight. 

Agent Fidel wasn't faithful, but she had been forced to be and she hadn't been.

" What's stopping you?" Jozef asked her and Natia met his eyes again. Green eyes. Nice green eyes. She hadn't seen green eyes in a while.

" I don't know," she answered truthfully, like it were a bitter taste in her mouth. 

" What is your name?" he asked her, " Agent name, shall I say."

" Agent Fidel." she said quietly, " But it renders too many memories of my past, I vowed not to go under it again." Jozef watched her and shrugged, lighting up the smoke in the early hours of 0400.

" Everyone's gotta shitty past," he said, meeting her eyes again, " all that matters is how you move on, make amends, make it new, not letting it control you." Natia watched him.

" I don't like who I've become." she whispered, her eyes emotionless, her facial expressions blank, her body frozen, " I am simply no one." 

" No." Jozef said quickly, sitting up, " I'm pretty sure you're a SOE Agent." It was meant to be funny - it was not.

" I got friends killed, people who I loved and cared about, I saw them die-"

" When has War ever been gentle with his soldiers?" Jozef asked her and Natia looked towards him with numb eyes. 

War was never gentle and never kind - he was always angry, numb, fighting ruthlessly with no motive except his own. 

And suddenly, something clicked in Natia's mind and her entire body froze. 

Comparing herself to War himself - she was not War, she refused to be anything but War and the horrible atrocities caused by his touch. Natia's gaze narrowed and Jozef slowly let a smirk crawl on his face as Natia slowly rose to her feet and approached the fire lit in the brick oven.

" I am not war." she muttered quietly, " I refuse to be something I'm not." 

But even then that seemed like a lie more than ever to herself if anything. Jozef grinned and slowly stood, his feet walking him a few steps closer to the woman, encircled by the glow of the fireplace and it's warm touch. Natia stared into the fire, feeling his presence a few feet behind her own. 

Suddenly, a knocking was heard upon the door and both Jozef and Natia turned to see another man there, one Natia had not seen here before, with soft eyes, a proud smile, and a slightly wrinkled forehead - on his bicep lay the orange armband. _Dutch Resistance._

" Jozef," the man said nodding to the dark haired mind slightly in front of Natia. Jozef nodded back before Natia slowly stepped forward a bit, watching the new man enter the room.

" You must be the young girl of the Polish Resistance." he said and Natia slowly nodded, refusing to move her eyes away from his face and drop anywhere below the neck.

" I am," she answered. The man grinned, stepping forward with an outstretched hand her way.

" John van Kooijk," he said and clasped her hand in his as they shook, " We are honored to be in your presence."

" Honored?" Natia asked him confused. It was anything but a death sentence to stand before her.

" Very. As a fighter of the fierce rebels of Warsaw, we consider it one." he said and Natia glanced at Jozef who nodded. Fierce rebels?

" You heard about...the Uprising?" she asked her voice slightly weak in its delivery. 

" Very few have heard at this point, except for the ones fighting in it, we have members spread across all parts of continental Europe and we were hoping to send aid, but we've been under heavy occupation that we can't seem to escape out of." Van Kooijk explained to Natia and Natia sighed to herself, glancing up towards him again. They'd heard? People knew? It was a surprise even to her ears.

" What is your name?" Van Kooijk asked her and Natia glanced towards him.

" Agent Fidel." she answered, and she watched a smile quirk onto Jozef's face, " Natia Filipska if you prefer."

" Are you part of Churchill's Secret Army?" Van Kooijk asked her and Natia nodded slowly. Van Kooijk grinned.

" Fascinating, you truly are strong for your tiny build." he said and Natia watched him.

" 5 years worth of fighting does that to you." she answered quietly and Jozef smirked. 

" Let's let her sleep, we'll talk more when you wake. And when you've eaten." Van Kooijk said, " Come along, Jozef." Jozef nodded to Van Kooijk approaching the door and Natia nodded to the two as they disappeared. Natia slept for too long she felt, but she knew she had needed the sleep. 

Sunlight softly streamed in through the thin cloth onto her face, cuddled into the pillow, under the warm comfort of the blanket that was swaddled around her figure. She thought it were a dream when she opened her eyes and found she was the only one in the room and it was quiet. 

There was no feet brushing against the surface of the ground, there was no crying children, people begging for food - none of that. It was quiet, except for the sound of the dead ashes of the crackling fire in the corner. 

Natia slowly sat up, her head swimming a bit as she did so and looked around. It felt unfamiliar, to wake up with sunlight in the window, a warmth at the ankles instead of the nipping cold, and the soft hum of sweet silence hanging in the corners. 

Natia felt out of place. 

She was destruction, she was death, she was chaos. 

This was not Natia - not the silence, the calm, the innocent. 

Her life was anything but. 

Maybe long ago it had been but she was far too long gone for that. 

Natia softly glanced down at her belongings tucked beside her bed and scooped the watch into her grasp. 1300. It was 1300. She had slept for 8 and 1/2 hours. She hadn't slept that long since years ago when she had let herself sleep. 

Last night, or really early this morning she had tried to keep her eyes open, listening out for sounds, for people sneaking around, for footsteps, but she heard none. She figured they had let her be alone and were being as quiet as they could, save for the occasional squeak of the floorboard above her. She had slept. 

Natia carefully bent over and began shakily pulling her boots on, lacing them up on her socked feet and comfortably tucking in the legs of her uniform into the tops of her boots. Pulling on her jacket, she shivered a bit as the stiff material slid onto her body. 

Standing up slowly, Natia stretched herself - it was weird to feel rested, to feel somewhat safe, and to know there was a hot meal for your stomach awaiting. She hadn't eaten in so long, too long and water had been less than sufficient. The dull ache in her head was enough to signify that. 

Natia slowly pulled her P-38 into its holster and then her submachine slung around her shoulder, gently pressing her coat, and hearing the satisfying crinkle of the map underneath. Natia left the warm room and moved down the hall towards where the voices had previously traveled from. Her feet carried her in and almost immediately she noticed a majority of who she had held her pistol too last night in the room, eating together. And all their eyes flew to her and she swallowed.

" Natia!" Anouk called standing up from her spot and racing over to her, excited eyes watching her own. Natia forced a small smile on her face, but barely registered an ounce of joy that penetrated her heart. She was falling further than she hoped by this point. 

" Are you hungry?" Anouk asked her and Natia nodded softly.

" Yeah, pretty hungry." Natia said and Anouk grinned, taking Natia's hand suddenly and yanking her over towards the stove.

" C'mon," she said as they arrived where a young man stood, swirling a bowl of watery looking soup. The gentle scent hit Natia's nose and it smelled like home for a second. Natia froze for a moment as the warm steam of the soup wafted into her slightly reddened cheeks from the unusual heat of the basement. 

10 years old, sitting on a chair as autumn finally arrived in Warsaw, her mother boiling soup by the stove near the ice frosted window. Not even comprehending that 8 years later her life would alter to a different reality.

" Here you are." the young man with the soup said, putting a bowl into her grasp. Natia met his gaze, gently accepting the bowl with cautious hands. He poured the soup inside as Anouk watched tentatively. 

Natia glanced at the two before looking back at the soup in the bowl. She took the spoon offered to her and gently dipped it into the bowl, bringing up the liquid to her lips. Natia had 3 bowls of soup that afternoon, without saying a word, listening to the quiet murmurs in various languages. She felt out of place, but she always did. 

Sitting in the corner, life droning on around her, as she sat motionless with chilled soup and frozen fingers. She was used to being out of place though. Natia sat by the radio the rest of the day, her mind becoming numb to the static sting inside her brain that continued over and over like a mantra inside her head. 

The quiet looks Anouk sent versus the older woman who traveled through the room on tea breaks, trailing to get a tea cup, or even Jozef who would watch her from the corner and when Natia failed to move, move on and keep walking. But Natia was determined to get a signal from her friends and her family. 

So they would know that she was alive and that she wasn't dead. 

Natia's mind went to the worst case scenario, that something bad had happened and they were gone now as well. She couldn't think about that. 

Natia did manage to eat something for a meal for dinner, but after that, she awaited a call from the radio again and was left with a soft hum as an answer. Natia wasn't allowed to leave the house - Nazis still roamed the streets occasionally and to smuggle her in had supposedly been a feat upon itself. And Natia wouldn't dare face the enemy again after what they'd done to her upon her capture. It still made her feel sick to her stomach. 

Natia always heard the footsteps above her, the jiggle of the wooden door near the stairs and the harsh voices that traveled through the floorboards. The random checks from the enemy themselves. Natia's P-38 sat right beside the radio and at this point, Natia did not shy away from the idea of simply shooting one that dared step foot below. 

Anouk took to quietly reading beside Natia that night - Natia expected it as a sign of comfort or company, and Natia liked the lingering presence that Anouk brought along with her. The light brown haired, bright blue eyed young woman sat with a quiet presence, a small smile drawn up at the corners of her lips, as her eyes read over the pages below her. 

Natia concentrated again on the radio, begging for the answer of a familiar voice in her ears. But nothing came and soon nightfall arrived, bearing a cool breeze and Natia eventually had to crawl back into bed again, all spouts of hope falling into chains around her ankles, suturing into the ground of the Earth with no found escape in sight. 

They thought she was dead, Natia pondered that night, and it made her mind untamed, absolutely wild. Because if they saw you be hauled away, your fate was already decided - you were dead. 

Except she wasn't dead, but what stood between her and Poland, was Nazi Germany, crawling with snakes, poisonous tongues darting out of their mouths, lurking eyes at every corner, waiting to capture you in their sharpened teeth. 

Natia shut her eyes finally, she couldn't think about it anymore. It was maddening. 

The gentle memories of the soft Mozart tunes that her Mother had played readily drowned out the countless endless thoughts that warped her mind consistently. She wished one day she'd return to Warsaw - she felt this day was not that day. 

All alone in a Dutch bunker, the Polish woman let the tortures of the demons in her mind render her to rest her eyes for a mere moment. 

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H I S T O R I C A L N O T E S

No important historical notes for this chapter!! <3 

A / N 

_AH!! here we ARE!! the long-awaited double update that i've been eyeing for MONTHS at this point! this chapter was a huge set up for ultimately what's to come in this next chapter and I AM JUST BURSTING WITH EXCITEMENT!! i am beyond excited to bring this chapter to you as we've built for nearly two and a half months for this moment - you know natia, you know her past (well most of it LOL), you know how she acts, what makes her tick, and what she's seen and experienced to make her the way she is - so.....how is easy company gonna react - YEP!! it is TIME!!! ENJOY!! <3 _


	19. The Mortal Soul

" The mortal body was born to die. But the poor soul struggles to survive, even when it's already dead."

\- Vidushi Pawar

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_**Eindhoven, Holland** _

_**September 17th, 1944** _

_**1300** _

_**48 days since the Uprising** _

" Natia." a voice whispered in her ear, causing Natia to shoot up, hands searching for a weapon at her side, and finding nothing in the end, forcing her to launch forward, pushing the person straight onto their back into the musty ground, hands dangerously close to removing their jugular.

The second she wasn't seeing fire, Natia realized it was only Jozef she had slammed to the ground, the breath knocked from his lungs, as Natia let out a few pants.

" Really 0-80 aren't ya?" Jozef said to her and Natia glared at him, shuffling back from his body, before begrudgingly helping him to his feet.

" I have Nazis' voices wake me in the night, I'd reconsider it next time whispering that close in my ear, Jozef." she said, turning and stumbling back towards the bed, yawning a bit. Jozef watched her with wide eyes before clearing his throat.

" What time is it?" she asked him.

" 1300, and uh, you shouldn't be trying to go back to bed." he said and Natia's eyes flashed to his own.

" Was there a radio signal?" she asked quickly, shooting up from the mattress, a few springs following as she did so, watching Jozef with shining eyes.

" No," Jozef answer and her flame was immediately blown out," but, uh, you might want to see this." Natia watched him, confused slightly.

Reaching down to pull on her boots, she shoved the field cap onto her head, before adjusting the jacket around her shoulders, pulling her weapons into her grasp as she followed Jozef out the door and down the hall. She didn't forget to lug up her tiny little Dutch radio into her grasp, slowly sliding it onto her back as she did so, letting the phone wire hang over her shoulder as she followed Jozef up and out of the oak door.

She hadn't crossed that threshold in days, she had been unconscious the last time she had. The second she entered into the upstairs world, the main level of the home, she heard joyous singing and cheers and yelps of joy from the outside world, where the sun shone brightly upon the vast amount of people crowding outside.

Natia grew even more confused as she followed after Jozef meeting his gaze. Jozef gently grasped the wooden door handle and pulled it open, revealing the world on the other side. The loud noise of cheers and singing stung Natia's ears, the joyful Dutch tune of triumph and freedom leaving the mouths of the happy Dutch citizens of Eindhoven. Natia looked around confused, before looking up to Jozef again who pushed her out upon the street.

" What is going on?" she asked lowly, her voice slithering through the bodies to Jozef's ears, as they were jostled quite a bit.

" Eindhoven, we've been liberated." he said and Natia met his gaze, as her eyes widened further.

" Liberated? By whom?" Natia asked, as she side stepped a gaggle of cheering teenagers, with their pigtails, orange flags and lace dresses.

" The Americans." Jozef said, " Supposedly an Airborne division that moved in from the Northwest, we should be happy to finally see them. And Van Kooijk has decided that you might join them to move you back towards Poland. Think of yourself as a liaison."

The Americans?

And Natia WITH the Americans?

And as a LIAISON?

No.

Natia's gaze froze for a moment as she finally understood what Jozef meant. She could see the olive drab of the American men, the soldiers dressed head to toe in American-made gear, their arms wrapped in hugs or kisses amongst the Dutch women who hugged them back, their chuckles rising in the air above the rest, their combat boots hitting the cobblestone like the mantra of their anthem and a shiny patch on their bicep, glowing underneath their helmets, one with an eagle on the side.

Natia could see them all now, the Americans which seemed to flood the once darkened and quiet streets of Eindhoven. Natia knew she should be grateful, but the bitter taste that filled her system was unlike any other.

5 years. 5 years of suffering and now they finally showed? Now they finally make it past France? And they've only reached Eindhoven? They still had Germany to march through with their shined up boots? Poland had been dusted under a rug by them and Poland had suffered because of it.

5 years.

Natia swallowed the bitter taste and reminded herself to grow neutral. They could be her only chance of survival by now - she couldn't stay here any longer.

With her choices limited, she began to follow Jozef farther ahead, eyes moving side to side through the vast crowds over and over as Natia grew nearer and nearer to the presence of the American soldiers.

Natia began to become more jostled as she continued pushing through as much as she could and she lost Jozef's head of hair in the mix. But she could see them, the Americans that stood with Van Kooijk amongst the crowd - and she knew that's where Jozef was trying to lead her. Natia's heart pounded as she slowly approached the Americans.

In her mind they were Americans and would always be Americans, and they would be the Americans she associated with America.

The America who did not aid Poland when it was first invaded and still did nothing to try and salvage it.

Natia's eyes caught on the sight of the 4 Americans stood with Van Koojik - an odd sight.

4 Americans in a crowd of Dutch, looking completely and utterly, confused and lost in it all, with the singing, the flags, the people, all of it.

" And this, will be your liaison." Natia heard Van Koojik say as Natia slowly approached, giving a slight form of what she considered a salute to the 4 Americans with a rather cold nod to them.

" Agent Fidel." Van Koojik said and the man with the maps in his hand gave her a look. Natia slowly gave a slow nod to Van Koojik at his intelligence to leave out the Home Army spot. She didn't need anyone knowing she were Polish even in this sector - her Resistance alliance could, these Americans were not of the same fate.

The dark eyed one, who held a map between his hands, stood watching her, studying her, like she was some mystery in his eyes - for the time being she would remain the nameless Agent she was under their gazes - it was far too dangerous anyway else.

" Far from home?" he asked her, the Map-Keeper, the one with the dark eyes.

" Farther than you think." she said back. Her still voice amid the chaos was enough to bring the 3 other Americans' sets of eyes to her own. Natia's eyes remained on the Map-Keeper's eyes.

They didn't know where home was for the young Agent, nor could they take a guess with the way she spoke such clear and concise English, with the slightest bit of what could only be an English accent - her parents had brought her up in the language along with her siblings, in the proper way, being cultural elites, you taught your children as such, and her parents chose to continue on with the language. That was the only thing that currently kept the knowledge of Poland out of their minds. Hopefully they'd assume Britain or a station in France was her home.

" When are we moving?" she asked immediately. No connections, no names, no affiliation - just get through this and get to Poland, get back home.

" The British have just arrived with their tanks," Van Kooijk said to her, " you might be on the move with the Americans sooner than you think." A chilled grimace spread on her face with a nod. In the presence of the Americans was odd enough - she had only met a few Americans in her lifetime, but this was different.

These were soldiers who had seen war just like herself. They knew the burdens of Death.

Natia glanced to her right, watching the tanks slowly roll down along the road, continuing slowly through the massive crowds that were packed in about every open corner there was.

" Agent Fidel," a voice said and Natia turned to meet the wise eyes of the man who she had presumed was the leader of some sort - she could see the Captain's bars hiding amidst his collar. Natia studied him for a moment, looking up towards him from under her field cap in the broad daylight and slowly reached a hand forward out to shake his own.

" Captain Richard Winters of Easy Company, 2nd Battalion of the 506th. We're a unit of the 101st Airborne." Captain Winters said to her. Airborne. They were an Airborne division, much like her very own Cichociemni. Natia slowly nodded, as the two shook hands in a rather firm grasp, firmer than it should've been probably.

" It's a pleasure to meet you." she said, her English working rather well that day, for it almost sounded as if she were a British person.

" You speak English well," the Map-Keeper exclaimed as he approached Captain Winters' side. Natia set his eyes up towards him and nodded.

" You need to be when you have Nazis breathing down your neck for years." she said, casting her gaze over her shoulder briefly, almost out of pure habit by this point. The Map-Keeper was quick to raise his brow in curiosity - she knew it was the word years that had ticked him off in the first place.

" Do you have a name too, Map-Keeper?" she asked him and the Map-Keeper raised a rather wry brow into the air. A smile poked at the corner of Captain Winters' lips as Natia remained neutral in her expression towards the Map-Keeper.

" Map-Keeper?" the Map-Keeper asked, as the map shuffled around in his grasp a bit, as he adjusted it, folding over corners and flaps.

" Keeper of the map," Natia said as if it was almost a dumb question. The two men watched her, majorly confused at the way she spoke - so guarded, so distant, so unlike many of the other contacts they had been previously associated with.

" Captain Lewis Nixon the Third." the Map-Keeper said, " Intelligence Officer." That's right, it was called an Intelligence Officer.

" I guess Map-Keeper and Intelligence Officer are the same thing in our realm then?" she asked, raising a brow slightly at her question.

" Yeah, we can call it that, Agent." Captain Nixon said to her, before nodding to behind her.

Natia had to control herself from whipping her body around - she knew there were no Germans behind her, all she knew is that beside Van Kooijk when she had approached there had been two other Americans dressed in olive drab, collars pulled up, covering their necks. Natia's eyes fell on the man who was basically her height, watching her with an almost confused look in his eye, his gaze studying her own. Natia didn't flinch.

Of course, a lone Agent in a Dutch town was confusing enough, but if they were allies, was it really that confusing? But they didn't know that.

" Agent Fidel," Natia said, sticking her hand out in front of her in introduction, " pleasure." The man watched her, before reaching a cautious hand forward to shake her own. His grasp was warm, with slightly calloused fingertips, possibly from pulling a cigarette from his lips one, too many times.

Dwad's fingers were like that too.

" Lieutenant Harry Welsh, I run 1st Platoon." Lieutenant Welsh said and Natia watched him.

" Of Easy Company?" she asked, as she began sorting through a filing cabinet in her mind of the soldiers that happened to be Americans that stood in the presence of Eindhoven.

Van Kooijk watched from the side, as Natia quickly reigned in the attention of all the American men. It was evident this lone Agent was more or less a mystery, a woman with seemingly no homeland, no real-name beside the Agent name she were addressed by, and the gaze like a lone wolf's.

Captain Nixon's interested peaked when the word Fidel had slipped from her mouth - she knew Latin.

" Yes, of Easy Company." Lieutenant Welsh said, nodding his head, his eyes still squinted up a bit watching her. Natia didn't mean for her next sentence to sound bitter or like shutters closing, but his curiosity was too far along for her liking.

" Something in your eye?" she asked him, before stepping back to move towards the 4th and final man who stood watching Lieutenant Welsh, almost taken back. Lieutenant Welsh snapped out of it for a moment before meeting the eyes of Captain Winters and Captain Nixon who had no response for the presence of Agent Fidel.

" Lieutenant Buck Compton, I run with 2nd platoon of Easy Company." Lieutenant Compton told her as Natia shook his hand gently. His grasp was most gentle out of them all and his blue eyes were welcoming enough to the handshake.

" Is Buck your real name, or is that just an American thing?" she asked him, gaze unfaltering as Lieutenant Compton looked taken back, yet again, for another moment in time. A chuckle surfaced past his lips as he watched the young woman, watch him right back. It was a genuine question. He cleared his throat.

" More of a nickname," he answered her, swallowing briefly as she studied him again, " the real name's Lynn, but uh, Buck suites me better." Natia softly nodded.

" Alright then, Lieutenant Buck Compton." she said before crossing her arms over her chest and turning to Van Kooijk who stood keeping his eye on the Americans and the Polish woman as well as the tanks rolling through the open streets of the town in which he had become a Resistance member for.

" The bridges must be clear if we can lead a battalion of the British inside, I suggest, Captain, that you start getting your men on the move. Agent Fidel here will follow you through until the end of this Operation, hopefully she can return safely to her home after this." Van Kooijk explained to the 4 men as Natia turned and watched them.

Captain Winters had to be the one that most openly stood, willing to accept her with open arms, while Lieutenant Welsh and Captain Nixon, probably put off by the neutral look in her eye stood with either crossed arms or things cradled in their arms. To keep their minds off of something clearly. And Lieutenant Compton, the one who liked to go by Buck instead of Lynn, his actual name, stood with the only smile protruding on his lips.

But allies worked together in war, even if it was too ensure someone got home - they were called allies for a reason.

" We'll fit you in somewhere Agent Fidel, you'll work in with our men just fine." Captain Winters told her and Natia slowly nodded. She was glad there was no question of where home was for her and at that moment she was not willing to disclose any of that - hopefully it'd stay that way.

" Thank you." she said - she couldn't deny it, saying thank you to an American, when America had done nothing for them was odd and a weird feeling in her gut twisted, but she had to remain neutral - she was no enemy, no ally, no nothing, she was simply no one - and hopefully the Germans would never find her again after this.

Natia took up a pace beside Captain Winters, for even though she was a little unsteady with the man simply because he seemed a little unsteady with herself, albeit, she trusted that when he lead his men, he led them with pride and honor.

Natia noticed the familiar presence of the Map-Keeper behind her to her right - his presence accompanied Captain Winters. Intelligence Officer or not, Captain Nixon was the keeper of the map in this moment. The other two Lieutenants followed and she could feel their eyes on her, with the way the hairs on her neck prickled up and she felt like her every move signaled someone else was watching.

As they moved through the crowd, she continued to see large groups of American soldiers, helmets off, taking pictures, in the arms of a Dutch woman, or shoving some of the artisan food of the modern era in their faces.

Following after Captain Winters, with Van Kooijk and a couple other Dutch Resistance members brought them out to the less crowded roads leading into the center of the town. Van Kooijk stopped the 4 Americans as Natia pushed forward a bit more, bringing up the binoculars she had seen the Dutch using in the previous days to her eyes, scouting out down the sloping road towards where one of the main bridges into town was, where the British tanks had previously come from.

" Agent Fidel," Van Kooijk called. Natia didn't move, for her eyes were too dead set on the bridge. She could tell the 5 mens' eyes were burning into her back, and a slight air of tension rose when the woman didn't turn at the sound of her name.

Natia turned back to them on her own, briefly meeting Captain Winters' eyes who watched her, slightly unsteady. She figured the thoughts of 'this is the person we are stuck with?' ran through his mind like a marathoner. Natia turned her gaze back to Van Kooijk as she arrived at his side again.

" While we're stationed here, I want to set up some outposts. When we move out, we're being moved to the East, but for the time being, we need to watch the bridges, we don't know if we could encounter a surprise attack or some kind of offensive." Captain Winters explained to Van Kooijk, who nodded back, in a firm agreement.

" While your men celebrate, I suggest you start doing that now before the cognac starts taking effect." Van Kooijk said with a chuckle and Natia felt a smirk spreading on her lips, which the four Americans noticed.

" I suggest you take his advice," she offered, stepping forward briefly as the sun penetrated her uniform even more, " we don't know what sort of attacks the Germans could offer to use in the upcoming hours, they've only retreated. It doesn't mean they can't be hiding out in some old town around Eindhoven."

Natia knew the capabilities of the Nazis, she had seen them up close and right in her face - she had been on the receiving end quite a few times even. She knew they wouldn't just leave a city like Eindhoven unscathed. They were smarter than that in War. Captain Winters watched her before glancing at Captain Nixon.

" We were told under British Command that there were just old men and kids here." Captain Nixon told her, his voice almost as if he were trying to belittle her in a way that was almost condescending. Natia watched him.

" It's what you were told, but it is not what is seen." Natia told him before looking up at Van Kooijk, whom she held more trust in than the rest of the Americans, " I suggest we start setting up outposts now if we want to get a move on towards Arnhem." Her eyes cast back towards the 4 silent Americans. Captain Winters briefly let a smile dawn on his features as Lieutenant Welsh watched her unearthed.

" Lieutenant Welsh, start gathering your NCOs, Lieutenant Compton, you as well." Captain Winters said, his gaze refusing to shift from Natia's who held his own with an equal, dignifying intensity.

" Agent Fidel, you can come with me," Captain Winters said, giving a slight nod in the direction of Van Kooijk, " I think it's time we get you set within the Company." She could tell by Captain Winters' voice, even by just having met him less than 20 minutes ago, that there was a clear aggravation to his tone.

Natia led like she were a lone wolf - Captain Winters led in a pack.

She wasn't surprised by the intense gaze Captain Winters held with her own.

" Van Kooijk here tells us that you work well with radios, supposedly you haven't let that little one out of sight." Captain Nixon said, pointing to the Dutch radio that hung from her shoulders on her back. Natia cast her gaze back to it and then met his eyes again, with a slow nod.

" I'm awaiting a radio signal from my old position," she told the two, her voice softer than it had been before, " I haven't gotten one in return." It grew quiet amongst the group of 6 - the 4 Americans watching Natia with almost pitiful glances and Van Kooijk watching the Americans, casting his eyes to the frozen Natia for a mere moment of time. Her eyes glazed over and her face went emotionless, blank, like it all shattered to her feet, weighing her down even more. It was because they all knew why there wasn't a radio signal back.

Captain Winters watched the young woman, and suddenly all he saw were a scared young girl underneath it all, dressed in striped German uniforms, a cap 2x's too big for her head, hand strapped on the phone cord for the radio around her fingers like it were a death grip.

But it was the only connection to Poland she had left and it was through mere airwaves.

No one knew that her only connection to Poland was this little radio though, and she hoped no one ever found out.

Captain Winters felt he had a right to pity her - War was cruel to the young.

" I'm sorry to hear," Lieutenant Compton said and Natia slowly shifted her eyes towards his blue ones, and a bit of a relief filled her sagging heart. She didn't hear it often, but to her, a genuine voice say something like that to her was enough to push her body to its feet again. Natia softly nodded.

" What can you expect from 5 years at war?" she said to them and the 4 Americans remained quiet. The cheering of the crowds behind them and their soldiers remained rather loud and obnoxious to the ear, but this tiny circle of leaders finally went quiet for a moment, solemnly quiet. It was a somber few moments before Captain Nixon cleared his throat.

" Let's get them on the move," he said and both of the Lieutenants nodded to Captain Nixon before looking towards Natia and moving away, back towards the overcrowded street of Dutch citizens and American soldiers. Captain Winters reached his hand forward towards Van Kooijk who shook it with a relieved smile.

" Thank you for your help this far," Captain Winters said and Van Kooijk clasped his hand over Captain Winters' own with a grin.

" It is our pleasure to house soldiers like yourselves." Van Kooijk said with a nod, " We are forever grateful for what you've done, liberating us from the enemy." Captain Winters smiled gently, before his eyes were set on Natia again. Natia bit back her lip gently before glancing up at Van Kooijk who watched her with kind eyes.

" Thank you for saving me," she said, her voice tight, almost strained. Without them, she would've died.

" Even if I did hold a pistol to your head," she said with a slight smirk," I didn't mean it." Van Kooijk chuckled a bit as he gently placed a hand on Natia's shoulder, her body stiffening for a moment before relaxing - he didn't seem to notice.

" Thank you, for bringing some fight and hope back to this wonderful city." Van Kooijk told her and for a moment Natia watched him.

Hope never followed in her trail and it was never left behind or even offered in her wake. She tended to bring Death and destruction as her companions - but to hear that this time, it was a willingness to fight and hopefulness that had aided her, sent a tiny smile on her face. Not completely genuine, but genuine enough for Van Kooijk to grin.

" I shall set the Dutch outposts up for our Resistance members while you set your own up for your men. Agent Fidel, it's been a pleasure." Van Kooijk said and Natia nodded with gentle eyes. They had saved her life, it would always be a pleasure.

Death didn't want her to accompany him just yet it seemed.

Van Kooijk moved past them, calling out in thick Dutch towards some of the younger members lined along the street that were apart of the Resistance. Natia set her gaze back on the two Americans again. The two were murmuring amongst each other when Natia looked back towards them again.

" We'll have you set with our radioman for the time being - you get to remain with a radio on you at all times." Captain Winters told her and Natia watched him, her gaze holding his own. Natia nodded slowly.

" Thank you," she said, her voice calm for a moment as Captain Nixon glanced towards Captain Winters. Captain Winters nodded.

" Follow me." Captain Winters said. Natia followed the two Captains, moving through open portions of the less crowded areas of the streets towards a few buildings, surrounded by American military equipment and a few British tanks as well.

As they approached the Privates on either side of the building, they saluted the two Captains, but she couldn't help but notice how they're eyes looked to Natia almost immediately once they were in their line of vision. Natia averted her gaze, following the two Captains again, up and inside the wooden buildings.

Oak hit her nose first, almost immediately upon entry, so did the sight of men filling the entire room - unlike the Polish Resistance in ways where there were women spread throughout. Natia swallowed, suddenly uncomfortable under all their wandering gazes.

" This way," Captain Winters called over his shoulder towards her. Natia followed him as they came upon a group of men, mixed of what seemed to be American and British commands situated around a rather large map, similar to the ones the Dutch had in the cloth room.

" Captain Winters, Captain Nixon." the man said, his voice a thick drawl, as the two Captains saluted. The man's eyes moved to the woman behind them, whose presence was enough to burn a blizzard through the hottest states of America.

" Who's this?" the man asked, as the rest of the men, whether American or British, looked up, eyes looking at the trio.

" Agent Fidel, liaison." Captain Winters told the man. The man watched Winters before looking towards Natia.

" Agent Fidel." he said and nodded, " Liaison of...?"

" That's unimportant." she promised him with a firm nod - that and she refused to tell these men a thing denoting particularly to her - she was a no one and a no one she would be.

" Unimportant?" the man questioned, possibly slightly confused, but also with a tinge of his cocky nature twisted in. Natia clenched her jaw.

" Yes, sir." she said with a nod - but this man had rank on all of them, no matter who they were, they still deserved to be respected by what they earned. That's what she had to tell herself.

" How'd you come into Dutch custody?" he asked her. Natia swallowed, her eyes moving from the man to the map.

" I was captured, but I managed to escape. My closest ally was the Dutch Resistance, but I passed out from near-exhaustion by that time. I woke up in their safety. It was my own fault." she said, watching them, " I shouldn't be here." It grew quiet as the group watched the woman, the two Captains now watching her speak so poorly about the past events she encountered.

" John Van Kooijk, one of the Dutch Resistance's leaders advised we assist her in her travels, let her work alongside us as we move back in the general direction of Germany, until she can continue on. So she's not alone." Captain Winters told the man.

Natia glanced up at Captain Winters, with almost a sigh of relief. She didn't know the last time she had let a weight such as that off her shoulders, but hearing she wouldn't be alone, it was nice to hear. That someone would be there, that she had numbers now. Being alone got quite lonely after a while, even if Death lingered around her heart.

Sometimes the mortal soul was kinder.

" She's good with a radio we hear, Dick's assigned her to one. She needs it incase she gets a signal back from where ever she came from." Captain Nixon explained to the man who stood, pondering what the two Captains were so graciously telling him on Natia's behalf - she hoped it was convincing enough. Natia was surprised at the fact she was willing to trail along with the Americans, rather than set out alone across Germany as if she were a hitchhiker. She knew that lead to a faster death, so maybe this would just slow the process for the moment.

" You escaped, hm?" the man asked her, crossing his arms from across the very large table, in the center of them and Natia nodded.

" Yes." she answered firmly, " I was on a scouting mission at night, a raid on a nearby German camp and made a move I shouldn't have. It got me captured, but I managed to escape. I had to kill 3 of the enemy in the process, but I was saving myself. After what they did to my country and my city, they deserved that." It grew quiet yet again, as Natia's voice hummed in the corners of the room, penetrating all their ears.

" You speak English well," the man told her.

" I'm fluent in 3 languages, sir. I had to be." Her response silenced any more uncertain questions it seemed.

" Well," the man said, scratching his head, " we'll have to get you some ODs when we can, military combat boots, a better radio than that, to help you blend in while you're on your travels with us. But if it helps with any ounce of stopping this war and to get you home, then albeit." The man turned to the two Captains.

" Get her situated with your radioman for the time being, and get your scouts set out with radios to the edges of town. We may be here for the night, but if not, just until all this celebrating dies down." the man said, and both the Captains nodded with firm, yes, sirs to follow.

" I'm Colonel Sink," the man said turning to Natia," stay with these two gents for the time being. We'll get you home, Agent. Where ever that may be." Natia managed a slightly pained smile, as homesickness seemed to fill her lungs and choke her.

She missed home - she missed the fight of the war in Warsaw, the constant, everyday moving, the ability to keep her mind off of the horrors of what the war actually was, and just continually moving and doing mission after mission with no thought of mind. With a few days to think, it made her more terrified deep down than she had ever been. But would she show it? No. Never.

" Thank you, sir." she said and Colonel Sink smiled with a nod.

" Get yourself moving, Dick." Colonel Sink told the man beside her, as Captain Winters removed his helmet along with Captain Nixon. Ginger. Captain Winters was a ginger.

Natia had only met a few ginger-haired people before, with their bright, fiery red hair, that made them seem like the happiest people on Earth. Maybe Captain Winters was one of them. Natia smiled slightly, as Captain Winters turned to her.

" I'll introduce you to our radioman." Captain Winters said as Natia looked up to meet his eyes again, " We'll move on from there after I have sent out our scouts." Natia nodded. Captain Winters turned to Captain Nixon and the two spoke quietly before Captain Nixon ran off.

Natia narrowed her gaze, her brown eyes following him as he shoved on his helmet and hopped out of the door into the bright sunlight and fresh air again.

" Map-Keeper." she murmured to herself.

" What?" she heard Captain Winters ask her, forcing her eyes up to his again.

" Nothing." she answered, but her gaze back over her shoulder towards where Captain Nixon had disappeared, held for a moment.

" Map-Keeper." she whispered again to herself, eyes narrowed.

The Captain and the Map-Keeper.

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H I S T O R I C A L N O T E S

No important historical notes for this chapter!! <3

A / N

AHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!! CAN YOU HEAR ME *SCREAMING*!!! i have been SO EXCITED to finally update this portion and we are HERE!! from the start of landslide, i knew i wanted to try something unique and show an OC meeting up with the guys in Eindhoven and I already love how it played out - you can only imagine what can occur from here on out!! GOD I AM JUST SO SO EXCITED!!! BEYOND EXCITED FOR THIS!!! this is where things truly get interesting ;) we've waited nearly 2 and 1/2 months and here we are - let's get this show on the road!! thank you ALL for reading and supporting me and sending all your love - it means the world to me more than anything and i'm so excited to continuing posting!! <3


	20. The Radioman's Handshake

" War is catastrophe. It breaks families in irretrievable pieces. But those who are gone are not necessarily lost."

_\- Ruta Sepetys,_ **_Salt to the Sea_ **

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**_Eindhoven, Holland_ **

**_September 17th, 1944_ **

**_1400_ **

**_48 days since the Uprising_ **

Captain Winters' pace was a force to reckon with. And the grasp Natia withheld on the radio strap was a firm reminder that it was now 4 days since her disappearance and she had still not managed to get a signal from Warsaw. For the code set on Zofia's matched Natia's own - right here and now. And they were supposed to have received it. Natia's heart clenched a bit at the mere thought, and she loosened a bit of her collar around her neck for more airflow. It was stifling.

Natia's eyes moved around the faces of the men inside this quarter - officers with stress in their eyes, smokes on their lips, a multitude of radiomen about, with a handful of translators and possibly even some NCOs. They crawled around like cockroaches - everywhere.

Natia swallowed uneasily to herself, but willed her eyes to remain neutral, and her tense gaze to linger just a bit longer than she wanted on a few particular faces. Captain Winters moved in front of her and she followed quietly. She knew she had to work with these men, she knew at some point she'd have to focus on the fact that these men were the only hope of getting back to Warsaw now more than ever. Natia had already escaped the hands of 3 Nazis - there was no doubt their bodies had been discovered, nor was there a fault in which they were already searching her out.

" Agent Fidel." a voice said and the moment she looked up she realized her feet now stood motionless upon the wooden surface of the ground.

Captain Winters watched her, with almost expectant eyes as well as another man, oil rag in his hands, stood at a smaller stature, smaller than Captain Winters at least, watched her almost inquisitively, yet full of hesitancy. There was an air of tension that managed to find its way into the room, as the chaos of other American soldiers in surrounding locations continued on around them.

Natia felt like one of the dogs she had seen on the street, curled in the corner, tail between their legs, ribs out for all to see, and a masked fear spreading quicker than ever within their eyes. She had been trained to cover that up with whatever she could muster. And in this moment, it was just like when her barrel had been pointed towards the Dutch Resistance in the bunker. She couldn't trust a soul.

But Ryzshard had said she always put on a pretty good act.

" This is Sergeant George Luz, our radioman, technician if you will." Captain Winters offered to her as Natia shifted her gaze towards Sergeant Luz, the radioman, who stood watching her almost unevenly. Like he wanted to allow his interest to be peeked, but remained hesitant and almost distant as if he didn't want to engage in conversation just like herself.

Sergeant Luz was the one who took a small step forward and stuck out his hand in front of him. Natia, as if it were the reluctance that had forced her back in her training, coming back again, closed the small space and gently clasped his hand in a handshake. But she was quick to pull back and step away and bring her hand back to the radio strap looped behind her back as a sense of security.

Sergeant Luz seemed to notice the way her hand gripped the strap firmly and immediately his eyes narrowed in upended suspicion. And Natia watched him with an equally guarded expression.

" We're going to work on getting you a new radio-"

" No." Natia said quickly, her grasp becoming firmer on the one she had on her back, eyes flashing up to Captain Winters in almost an instance, " I'm sorry, sir, but this radio has had locked in code for a few days by now. And I could get a signal any time of day for it - I can't just get a new one." Natia watched Captain Winters with crest-fallen eyes, diminished of hope. Captain Winters watched her as Sergeant Luz cast his eyes up towards the Captain. Captain Winters seemed to adorn a forced smile for a few moments, before clearing his throat - he was uncomfortable. Natia had seen it before on an old mentor - she had that affect. 

" Right." Captain Winters said with a nod," It's still just a possibility, Agent Fidel, at this point."

" And with the Brits running this shitshow, I won't be surprised if you never even get one in." Sergeant Luz muttered from his spot beside Captain Winters, where both of their eyes moved to him. Captain Winters cleared his throat again and nodded back to Natia, who rather begrudgingly nodded back, before looking back towards Sergeant Luz again. 

" I'll let you two be, I can only assume we're move out within the hour by this point." Captain Winters stated to the two, before looking back at Natia, " A uniform should be on its way soon to you, to change into and blend."

 _Blend_.

The world was relieving - it's all she ever wished to do anymore. Natia slowly nodded in response. Captain Winters nodded and then met both their eyes before moving out, without a second word, except a warm glance.

The second he disappeared, Natia forced herself to look back towards Sergeant Luz again. His eyes weren't what she had expected them to be if she were being honest - a light brown, softened, filled with an ethereal warmth it seemed. Sergeant Luz watched her for a fleeting moment, before taking a few steps forward. Natia froze almost immediately.

" If you're gonna be a radioman, you have to make sure this little guy is at least straightened out." Sergeant Luz said, moving to her side and hastily straightening the antenna attached on the back. Natia watched him from her peripheral, eyeing him as he slowly took a step back and watched her. 

" I'm not going to be a radioman." Natia said her gaze cold, " I'll be with you Americans until your campaign is finished and I can go home. There's nothing more to it." Sergeant Luz watched her, his gaze studying her.

Natia refused to associate herself with men from the country who did absolutely nothing for her own for 5 years. Silly little air drops with Great Britain that meant nothing in the end. It was past the fact that they were 'trying', too many people had died for it to simply being 'trying'.

They hadn't tried hard enough.

" What's with the glare, Agent?" Sergeant Luz asked her, leaning back up against a post, studying her as she stood frozen on the ground. Natia felt her insides boil. He was trying to get under her skin. There was just something off about each and every one of them. The officers, Colonel Sink, Sergeant Luz - something that made her stomach twist. 

" No response," Sergeant Luz said with a nod as Natia barely batted and eye.

" My country got no response from America for 5 years, I suppose you don't deserve an even coherent one from me." Natia said, her gaze chilled, her eyes filled with an onset of anger, hidden beneath the wraps as she stood there, peering at him from under the field cap, previously dirtied and blood covered from war. She looked like War, she felt like War, but Death was what clasped at her fingertips. Sergeant Luz watched her. If anything, it only made him more curious. 

" Well if you're talking about the same people who decided going under British command for an operation like this was smart, then I don't blame ya for hating them either." Sergeant Luz said and Natia cast a gaze towards him. She was confused. Sergeant Luz just grinned. And oddly, Natia felt comforted by this strange American man with the glowing eyes and a grin on his lips.

" I'd take all the hate you can give me, but there's this thing called a war on and Captain Winters might cut me lose if I don't do what I'm told, so c'mon, I got mine set up near the back. We can compare how much these radios fucking suck to tinker with."

It was quite sarcastic, his entire comment, but it didn't seem directed particularly...at her. It was strange.

But he was right, there was a war on, they didn't have time to immaturely berate one another on difference of country and culture. Natia had a cold heart, but she wasn't an idiot. Sergeant Luz was trying at least.

Natia slowly followed after him, refusing to open up her mouth, but instead will her eyes to lead the rest of this conversation. But, Natia gave him credit - these radios did suck to even attempt to mess with. She remembered Zofia complaining regularly about how rusted her radio was.

Natia followed Sergeant Luz to where he stood beside the mess of what could be a disassembled radio. Natia stood quietly by Sergeant Luz's side as he looked down at the radio, rolling around the dirtied rag in his hands, as he wiped them off, watching the radio with a slightly tilted head.

" It's not the neatest set up, but God said make it work." Sergeant Luz said and Natia couldn't help, but feel a smirk poke at the corner of her lips at the quiet joke. She held the smirk though. She could see Sergeant Luz glancing towards her a small smirk adorning his own, however.

" God tends to do that." Natia said, her voice an icy slice through the air. Sergeant Luz was quick to look towards her, studying her tense side profile, and her guarded eyes which seemed to hold quite a lot behind them.

" Got a name, Agent Fidel?" he asked her, crouching down beside the radio, reaching a hand forward onto one of the pieces. 

" Yes." she said, " It's Agent Fidel." Sergeant Luz chuckled as he stood back up again beside her and looked at her again.

" I guess your parents believed Agent was a humbling enough name?" Sergeant Luz asked her, with a raised brow.

" Not humbling enough." she answered, with an equal intensity.

" Clearly." Sergeant Luz said, and Natia's gaze narrowed. There was still a sense of bitterness on both their tongues, one they'd have to get used to it seemed. Natia watched his eyes.

" If you must know," Natia told him, crossing her arms across her chest, as she cleared her throat, " then why?" The question seemed to silence Sergeant Luz as the two stood quietly side by side. But she saw Sergeant Luz smile.

" You don't seem like the type of person who wants to hide behind a name, you know that?" Sergeant Luz told her and it struck something inside her, as she swallowed. 

Natia could see Sergeant Luz watching her earnestly, like he knew those words had poked at her heart, like he meant them to.

No one had ever fought this hard to maintain conversation with a person like herself, in her lifetime it seemed.

" Natia Filipska." she said, turning her head the slightest bit to meet his gaze, " Natia." Sergeant Luz seemed to smile a bit at the statement.

Natia knew the risk of entrusting another with her name, but he didn't know that it was a Polish name nor that she was from Poland.

" Pretty name." Sergeant Luz said and Natia felt her heart soften - her father had always wanted a daughter named Natia.

For Natia's birth hadn't been during an easy time for her mother - she was her mother's hope. But now that hope was gone, Natia willed that it would some day return. And she wished she could thank him, her father, truly she did, but it only made her heart clench further. Sergeant Luz noticed Natia's reaction, he clearly could, she could just tell by the way he watched her.

" Call me George, none of that Sergeant crap." Sergeant Luz said as he turned to her, fiddling with something in his pocket, only to pull out a broken and slightly old, tattered cardboard pack of cigarettes, " You want one?" Natia watched as George offered up the cigarettes in front of himself towards her. Natia watched him, a bit uneasily, but then slowly nodded.

George smiled at her, a real genuine smile, not the sarcastic one he seemed to wear like it were essential to his look, or the grin from a joke - a genuine smile. George slowly pulled two out of the pack and handed one to her before placing his own on his lip.

" Take a look at this," George said pulling a lighter from his pocket as the paper fold sat upon her lip awaiting a light, " it was my dad's before the war. Figured he'd give it to me." Natia looked at it with gentle eyes, the sentiment from George's father. 

" 1940 model." she stated and George seemed surprised as Natia leaned back a bit with a small nod.

" You know some stuff, don't ya?" George asked her as he softly lit the cigarette that sat upon her very lip, before lighting his own. She nodded slowly, her eyes trained on her fingertips.

" I'm with your company until I can make my trek to may last position." Natia explained - her time in the SOE where she trekked through the Alps or even through dense German forests in the dead of winter gave her an excuse to talk and say she was lost from her current position and not her home.

" The enemy took me from my home and I'm determined to find my way back." George watched her.

" 5 years is a long time for a war, George Luz, too long in my opinion." she said, leaning her back against the post, as she eased into the flow of the conversation, " Rich man's war, poor man's blood."

" You speak from experience." George said as he took another puff of his own, watching her clearly interested in the strange woman, an acclaimed and supposed Agent, with a clear unknown origin, with a knack for radios, who could twist her words with her native tongue, and still remain a simple mystery. 

" That I do." she answered, watching him with uneasy eyes. George nodded - he could sense she didn't want to talk further on the subject.

" Here, let me show you this piece of crap, you got me sidetracked with that pretty name." George said with a chuckle; Natia watched him. It had been a joke, she was supposed to laugh. She wanted to laugh, but nothing more than the sound of air from her nose followed.

George was quite funny, she couldn't ignore that and he seemed genuine too. She had never had someone willing pick a conversation with her - and for a moment she felt important, to someone, to something, not like the battered soldier of war she was. 

Natia slowly crouched beside George as he pulled the radio and it's pieces scrawled across the ground in front of himself. Natia had to admire the care he seemed to take with the radio in front of him - Natia was the exact same way.

" Piece of crap is right." Natia muttered beside him, making George chuckle. 

" You're not so bad, Flip, you know that? A little angry but, like I said I don't blame ya." he said and Natia glanced at him cautiously from beside him.

 _Flip_.

No one had called her 'Flip' in days - she had only been called it in the comfort of the Underground.

 _Brush it off_ , Natia. _You won't ever see these guys again once you reach their final ployed destination - you'll be alone again and going home_.

Natia could tell already she was different than normal with George than she normally ever was with a human being ever. But for once, they didn't have to talk about war, and for once they could just be talking as individuals, two human beings with their own lives. The war changed her into a monster, a simple conversation made her human again.

" Wise choice of words, George." she said to him as George chuckled a bit, picking up a few pieces to put back into place on the radio with a smirk. Natia glanced back over at him, this radioman - just another man ripped from the life he had back home for a war like this.

For a moment, they were the same, they were equal, two humans in a war not suited for them. She knew George, just like the others had seen war before and in their own ways. She could sense the strain when he mentioned it.

Natia watched George laugh to himself - a stupid war on and he could still laugh.

_What was that like?_

Natia decided that out of the current 6 members of the American Paratrooper Regiment that she had met, George Luz was her favorite person. And for the life of her, Natia could not figure out what drew her specifically to George Luz, but from that moment in time, where someone had respected the boundaries she had up, she let herself trust someone like himself.

Maybe it was because she saw the lives of Ryzshard and Zdzich in him or simply because George didn't try to put on an act for her, act like she was nothing but a human who should be pitied. She was just a human - George respected that.

A uniform had been brought for Natia, as well as combat boots, by one of Colonel Sink's runners, whose face made it look like he were fresh out of school, as he shoved it into her hands and scurried away, out of sight. Natia watched him hurry away, slightly confused.

" Replacement." George said from next to her, as she moved her gaze to his, " They're a little...." Natia tried to think of a word to complete his sentence.

" Flaky?" she asked him.

" Yeah, we'll call it that." Natia smirked to herself as she looked down at the uniform. Her eyes looking at the olive drab she had previously seen worn by the Americans, the Eagle patch along the area of the bicep, stitched freshly on, and the way the boots were stiff and heavy to even hold. Quite a lot for someone who was used to traveling light. Oh and a helmet to top it off.

" Here, go and change, I'll take care of this stuff for you." George said as he gently placed Natia's little Dutch radio beside his own larger American one. Natia watched it and George licked his lips, glancing towards it briefly.

" If there's a signal, I'll come running like my feet are on fire, alright?" George said and Natia softly nodded towards him. She watched him for a moment - he didn't he know why this signal was so important, but he knew it was important to her. A slight tenderness filled her heart. 

" Thanks," she said and George smiled, giving her a smile. Natia turned away from him and trailed back through the building, searching for a room to slip inside of and change real quick.

Moving up the stairs, into a more stifling hot building, she slipped inside a room and let out a breath of air, as everything suddenly hit her. Everything in the past couple of days was finally hitting her.

Shutting her eyes, she sucked in a shaky breath, forcing herself to breathe. It was so uncomfortable, being in a new place alone, when you had no idea who you were supposed to trust, attempting to continue to fight and find your way in this world, as the suppression of the enemy only made you succumb to the numbness of reality more.

Natia let a shaky breath past her lips again, as she opened her eyes and pushed another strand of hair behind her ear. She had to focus on putting her two feet through the uniform and disappearing into a sea of Americans. If it meant safety and refuge to get back home, it was worth it.

Natia slowly pulled the field cap from her head, placing it gently to the chair beside her, and then slowly began to unlace her old and worn combat boots from the Nazi a few years back. She stretched her toes once the boot was finally pulled off from her feet, wiggling them in the wool socks she had worn for too long it seemed. She pulled off her pants next and then managed to pull on the fresh and stiff Army pants. They were a bit long, but the muscle build up she had, made them the right fit for her hips, even if she pulled the belt a bit more snug around her waist - she hadn't been eating right for years anyway.

Pulling off the striped Nazi uniform top she discarded it to the side and then held up the American top in front of her. It was the under layer, the Olive Drab layer, that was thin and slightly soft to the touch in a way as she slowly pulled it over and then gently fastened it up in the front, fitting out the collar, before pulling the jacket on over top, feeling snug for once in this uniform.

But when she pulled on the boots, she made a face. They were stiff, too stiff for her liking and not fitted like her previous boots at all. And it was like having two bricks for feet. Natia stood, glancing down at her uniform, eyeing it up and down.

" Well, it'll have to do." she said quietly to herself, trying to work her feet into the boots a bit as she did so. Blisters would appear later, they always did.

The double tie was worked around her ankle next - she never pulled on a shoe without a double tie to compliment it.

Natia fit the helmet onto her, thankful that it was the perfect size and then firmly picked up her old gear and brought it up into her arms. She headed back downstairs, sweating a bit more now that the uniform was clinging to her body, and approached back to where George previously was.

But when she arrived, her body froze when she realized George was not alone, but talking to another man who wore the same uniform she now wore.

Natia's eyes narrowed.

The man stood, more weight pressed to his right side, a low chuckle ringing out from his lips as George snickered at something he said, before catching the sight of the Agent in the American Olive Drab approaching him.

" Hey! Flip!" he called out towards her, to the point where she almost froze again.

There it was again. 

_Flip_.

It had caught her off-guard.

 _Flip_.

A rock lodged in her throat as she tried to recover, pushing a small smile onto her face. It wasn't his fault - he didn't know a soldier of Death had once called her that very name - it was her own for letting her emotions consistently get the better of her.

_For Zdzich and Felicjan._

She had not cried for Zdzich - only when she was truly lost and barely awake - but she had not cried since. And Felicjan - she had tried to push from her mind the fact he had died, it was like she were still living like he were alive.

For War did not give time for proper grieving.

Natia stepped forward.

" You gotta meet this guy!" George called out to her, placing a hand on the man's shoulder to turn him towards her.

The man turned and his eyes immediately caught hers and she felt herself freeze up again. His eyes were not like George's, the previous soft brown, but instead an intense and deeper, darker brown - a set of eyes that was unfamiliar to her soul and sent her body stiff.

Natia watched him, her gaze becoming hard set, as his own eyes looked down at her, watching her own. Natia could see his mouth turning into a thin line. Natia could see George over the man's shoulders, his smile falling slightly, and Natia took an uneasy step back. She could see a flash of hurt in the man's eyes, but it hardened over almost immediately. George cleared his throat and stepped forward.

" This is-"

" Agent Fidel." Natia said cutting George off, as she held her hand out in front of her, elbow straight out, stiff, her eyes refusing to fully meet the man's.

It grew tense and quiet, the chatter of the rest of the men in the background dying away it seemed as her hand remained outstretched towards the man who stood in front of her. Natia's heart pounded inside her chest as she waited for his hand to meet hers and then she could leave this situation and just get out. Because she could feel herself panicking in this unfamiliar situation with an American.

George had been different - far different - and the Captains and Lieutenants, out amongst the crowd when confidence oozed inside her soul, has been vastly different as well. But it was her fault that she reacted this way and simply just was this way - she knew that much. But she didn't dwell - she just wanted to shake his hand and move.

Finally, the man's hand reached forward and gently shook hers - with eyes so hardened and untamed like a wild animal, his touch was gentle and firm in her grasp. Her eyes slowly drifted up to his and their gaze held for a moment.

A power struggle, evidently - Natia had seen many in her past she felt.

Intimidation. Uncertainty, Hesitation.

But then Natia pulled back, leaving his hand now open and in the air. She sucked in a breath, letting her eyes shift away from his intense gaze. The man slowly pulled back his hand and let it drop to his side as he put his weight to his left side.

" Sergeant Bill Guarnere." he answered to her, his voice just as cold as her own gaze was, as she let her eyes move to his face again. George stood awkwardly off to the side, now understanding that the meeting was not going the way he had imagined inside his mind and slowly stepped forward.

And suddenly it was like Natia didn't even know George anymore or anyone, it was like she was all alone again, that curled dog with its tail between its legs trying to be stronger than it actually was.

This was a mistake, befriending George, meeting his friends, all of it.

This was all mistake.

She wasn't even supposed to be here.

" She's an Agent-"

" Yeah, yeah, Agent. Yeah I got it." Sergeant Guarnere answered to George, giving him a glance before resting his gaze back on Natia, looking her up and down for a moment, as she stood, gaze narrowing further. Natia grumbled to herself quietly.

She took it as her queue to step around the two almost immediately and moved over to where the tiny Dutch radio sat beside George's, bending down to haul it up onto her back, her cheeks flooding with heat as she knew both had turned to follow her with their eyes.

Natia stood, pushing her helmet onto her head as she did and then turned and marched straight through the two again, moving with narrowed eyes towards the door where American soldiers walked in and out of.

" Hey! Fidel!" George called out to her. She didn't stop - she didn't even hesitate.

" You don't even know anyone else here yet!" George called out to her in protest, trying to make her stop in her tracks.

" You're all bloody Americans, I'm pretty sure it won't be hard to make a friend or two!" she snapped back to them, her voice carrying through the home, before she turned and stepped right out of the door.

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H I S T O R I C A L N O T E S

No important historical notes for this chapter! <3

A / N

_Recently, I discovered my obsession with Ruta Septeys books like Between Shades of Grey, The Fountains of Silence and my all time favorite, Salt to the Sea, with a writer friend (you know who you are LOL) and I wanted to include a quote from her book Salt to the Sea in this fic and the one I mentioned above I feel is appropriate for the circumstance - though Natia knows war has taken so much, she still is not completely lost - even from her family - even if she may feel she is. A sort of foreshadow in the quote if we want to call it such! And did you see the new cover? IM SO HYPE! I was messing around with edits a few nights back and I found this picture and absolutely loved it and it reminded me of the image of Natia in my head more than anything - and it is time to show her and her new moments with Easy - so it was cover switching time aha!!! I'm so happy with how it turned out! Thank you all for reading as always - I especially love this chapter more than anything and I hope you all do too!!_

_I will be putting up an update on Christmas as my family will not be going anywhere or meeting up with anyone like we normally would on Christmas, because COVID cases in our area are not great right now - so I will have an update next Friday!! <3 Thank you all and happy reading! :)_


	21. Symphony of the Mind

"'Why did you do all this for me?' he asked. 'I don't deserve it. I've never done anything for you.' 'You have been my friend,' replied Charlotte. 'That in itself is a tremendous thing.'"

\- E. B White, Charlotte's Web

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_**Eindhoven, Holland** _

_**September 17th, 1944** _

_**1445** _

_**48 days since the Uprising** _

Natia walked under the sun as if God himself had just knocked on her door and told her to pray - in the middle of war.

Natia Filipska - praying? _Hilarious_.

Each step was like an angry little puff leaving her body, she grumbled to herself, as she felt the radio shift along her back, her submachine slapping her shoulder, as the slightly uncomfortable uniform itched her body and the boots continued to feel like bricks laced up onto her feet. A hello would've been nicer than a cold gaze, but what else is new. Not everyone is welcoming.

Natia squeezed her eyes shut for a moment, letting out another breath. Where she was going, she didn't have a clue. She just....her mind was too much for her right now and her reactions were annoying to herself. And walking into a solid wall of human body was not something she took a liking to either.

Stumbling back, pushing a hand on her helmet rim up out of her eyes, her angry gaze narrowed at the person in front of her.

" Watch it." she snapped, as her eyes met the brown ones of the person in front of her. But the gaze watching her was equally as angry, as the crowd still celebrated behind him.

" Watch it yourself." he snapped back, his gaze darkened, as he sneered at her, finally registering the female voice which had come out of her mouth.

" Who the fuck are you?" he said, stepping back briefly, hand moving to his rifle, slung across his shoulder as Natia's eyes widened.

" Hey, buddy, slow down alright!" she snapped, leaping forward to push the strap of his rifle firmly back into his shoulder as he looked at her quickly with wide eyes in the slanted street. Her face was red hot staring up at his, strands of her loose hair now falling down past her cheeks, the uneven cuts, clinging to her sweaty skin, as the man's sunken in cheeks, clenched at the jaw, and his gaze narrowed.

" Clearly word has not gotten around yet, and with a load of Americans, I thought it would've by now." she said, letting a labored breath past her lips, " But since we're in this position, may I introduce myself? Agent Fidel, it's a pleasure to make your acquaintance."

Boy was the sarcasm thick in her waters.

The man seemed to sense it and just turn more angry by the second.

" An Agent? Has the Army turned soft?" he spat, shoving her back from his shoulder, " A girl?" Natia rolled her eyes.

" You're going to have to insult me to the high Heavens if you think calling me a girl will do something there, asshole." she spat.

" Well aren't you just a gem." he said, scoffing, and looking over his shoulder before looking back at her.

" If you had been looking where you were going, then I wouldn't have even had to get in your face. You're quite tall anyway, you're quite capable of keeping your eyes where they need to be." she said, " Good day." And with that she side stepped the hot-headed man, grumbling as she walked away.

" I guess they have turned soft!" the man yelled back towards her and Natia did nothing, but raise a hand i the air and flip him off, before disappearing. Asshole. Natia hoped she never had to serve another discussion with someone like that.

Yet again, where she was going, she had no idea, but she detoured down a side street and immediately pushed herself down on the slab of a concrete step and let the helmet from her head fall, following by her submachine clattering to the ground, and the bump of the radio on a hard surface.

Natia sat quietly, the distant hum of the celebrations down the alley, and the road that lead down a hill towards one of the bridges into Eindhoven in the other direction, shadowed from the sun, and a cool breeze as her only company.

Not even Death was her companion today, it was merely just his way of pitying her.

Natia squeezed her eyes shut and put her head in her hands. She sat for a few moments, trying to control her mind, but she ended up still making the scabs in her palms reopen in a bloody mess, from clenching them too tight. She was getting tired of that reoccurrence.

" Hey," Natia heard a voice call from her left, shooting her head up out of her hands as she looked down the road, where a figure in a uniform slowly moved towards her. Natia shot up out of the spot and almost instinctively reached for the pistol in her side, but the man stopped in his steps and held his hands up.

" It's okay, it's okay." the man said, his kind eyes watching her own, " I heard you're Agent Fidel, our new member. Lieutenant Welsh just informed me." The man cleared his throat and watched her as her eyes refused to move.

" I'm Carwood Lipton, the boys call me Lip, you can too, if you want. I'm Easy's Senior NCO and I wanted to introduce myself." His voice was calming - Lip's voice was calming.

Like the gentle thrum of a guitar, with that slight American accent of the Southern twang - but not deep South. It was the home-like presence of his voice.

" Will you act the same once I speak?" she asked, her voice an icy chill on the spine, " Or like an actual adult?"

She didn't have time for immature boys in uniform, they were at war.

You could die any day.

Lip seemed nicer than the others and held a sense of maturity of himself that reminded her of Dwad a bit, someone who remained humble even though they might've just saved your life. And suddenly thinking of Dwad, sent her squeezing her eyes shut, dropping her hand from where the pistol lay and her head to the ground. Lip licked his lips and slowly watched Agent Fidel in front of him suddenly let a few barriers fall.

Natia thought she was fine - she thought she was FINE.

She was FINE.

Natia sucked in a shaky breath, clenching her jaw, forcing herself to stop being vulnerable in front of someone who did not deserve to pity her poor life.

" Are you alright?" Lip asked her and Natia nodded.

_Stop acting like this._

_Stop it._

" Are we moving out?" she asked, trying to get her mind focused on anything that didn't include the symphony in her mind. Lip watched her.

" Yeah, we were just about to - I heard they managed a radio for ya too." Lip said and Natia nodded softly, running a hand over her face, glancing back at the little Dutch radio. So much for keeping her code, she'd have to recode tonight, she couldn't miss one radio signal from them - not one.

" Here let me help you with your stuff." Lip said moving forward faster, and surprisingly, Natia let him move past her, crouching beside her, as she didn't fail to tense up the littlest bit, as he lifted her things into his arms. Natia watched as Lip stood again, and gently looped the helmet, rather softly onto her head and then gently helped her drape the rifle upon her shoulder, like she were one of the guys, before turning her briefly to help her pull the radio on her back.

To be cared for without even knowing who she was, was a comforting feeling to feel from someone like Carwood Lipton who so closely resembled the childhood friend of Dwad Pilecki. Natia turned and glanced up at Lip who watched her.

" C'mon, the boys oughta meet ya." he said as the two started walking side by side. Natia liked the pace he took, it was an even pace, not like the quick-pace Captain Winters and Captain Nixon had lead on.

" Why are you being nice to me?" Natia asked him, letting the words slip past her lips as Lip looked over towards her.

" Well," Lip said, moving his eyes forward again, " you're apart of the company, for as long as you're here for. In war, you don't deserve to fight alone." Natia bit back her lip. As they walked, Lip's calming words were quite literally enough to calm her down like it was a drug. He was so calm, held a humble authority about himself - and it didn't seem to matter she were a woman, from a town, unbeknownst to him, in Poland, war-torn and broken. It seems others had different opinions on the matter though.

The mass of Easy Company lined the streets, courted away from the mass of celebrating Dutch members, all huddled in their circles, obnoxious chuckles ringing from their mouths, fingers reaching for and passing around the cheap cigarettes the Army offered, and the slight stench of sweat lingering under their glances.

And the stares were enough to send Natia over the edge. Being stared at by the enemy was one thing, especially when it were with pure and utter disgust. But when you were stared at by the ally, people whom you were now entrusting your life with, it wasn't much better.

They don't understand, Natia forced her mind to think, as she followed after Lip, keeping her head down and pushing through the crowd as her cheeks fought up with their pink dust. They don't understand what 5 years of fighting did to the mind, the warping, the turning into a complete and utter monster. They didn't even need this Uprising, this war inside a war, but motives were justified with anger from the rich man on top, leaving the children to pick up his work and die at their hands.

They could wash the blood from their skin, the dead couldn't.

" Luz!" Lip called, his voice moving out above the mass of Easy men, she could barely focus. She heard their whispers, like they were Nazi whispers.

Whispers were all the same, no matter what mouth they came from. Natia slowly craned her neck to the right and found a group huddled, eyes on her, lips moving between each other as those whispers left their lips. Natia forced her eyes front again and continued to shove through the men.

Upon arriving where George was, he was not alone again.

In that moment, Natia decided Lip and George were her favorites.

Lieutenant Buck Compton had to be next, for he hadn't given her a look when she stood looking up at him. Colonel Sink after that, even though his words didn't fail to sound condescending. Lieutenant Welsh and Captain Nixon followed and then Captain Winters after that. Natia wasn't sure what to think besides the fact that those three were leaders and Natia had to trust them somehow in war.

Yet all the leaders she had ever trusted had gotten her demoted - it was not easy to forgive as to forget.

Sergeant Guarnere was after that. His look yet neutral, had not overpowered the firm grip in his hand, the unfamiliar gaze he held her with, the way his eyes at looked at her - those eyes, his own eyes. The man who she had bumped into and lost her temper with was at the bottom - she wouldn't be surprised if she was at the bottom of his list too. He was just hot-headed it seemed.

Natia met George's glowing eyes - but not alone, he now stood with another radio, that he was currently tinkering with a bit. Her radio, this would be her radio. She approached beside Lip with wide eyes as George grinned, moving from his hunches to his feet again.

" Sure is a beauty, isn't it?" George asked her as she approached, cautious eyes studying the metal block. Natia nodded as George chuckled.

" Here, let me help you pull this thing on." George said. Natia watched him, but then cautiously, turning, let the Dutch radio fall from her back, which Lip took into his arms, as George helped lift the radio onto her back.

Giving it a few jumps up, it started to rest snuggly along her shoulder, as George tightened a few straps on her, fixing a few things.

There was a mutual connection between the radio operator and the Agent.

He had wanted to talk to her - he didn't want to introduce himself and move on - he had wanted to know who she was, and with that simple sentiment, he was the only one who held her name in his mind, her real name.

Not the name which took life after life.

And she found herself, as he lightly adjusted everything, her trust for him growing even more.

It wasn't that Natia had trust issues, it was just that every human she had come in contact with, wanted to fight in this ruthless war with no determined outcome - George just wanted to be human it seemed. And Natia did too.

" You oughta to be one of the strongest ones here." Lip said from beside her as George continued adjusting in the mass of men. Natia noticed the small smile on his face and Natia couldn't help but grin a bit. Lip and George were kind people, she knew that much. The others, well....she had a different opinion on them. For all the hope she had lost in the world, she knew all souls weren't bad. There were good ones.

" Where do you come from?" Lip asked her, as George gently turned Natia to face him, as he began adjusting straps along the front two straps. He smelled of smoke, Natia thought.

A gentle, lingering scent, and maybe a hint of aftershave, just like her father - she was surprised she still remembered the scent like she did.

Natia glanced towards Lip.

" That's disclosed. Let's just say we've been at war longer than we should have." she said, and she noticed George's hand slow for a minute on the adjusting of the straps before picking up pace. Lip's face changed, saddening slightly. They knew, it seemed, by their reactions - George's hand and Lip's eyes - they had to have. George tugged tightly on the strap on her shoulder.

" Sorry, Flip, you're a tiny thing." She smirked a bit up at him, as the golden rays of the sun danced in his hair.

" You must have trained a lot then if you're an Agent." George told her and Natia watched him, with a low nod.

" It taught me things I wish a young woman would never have to know but more than once in this war I've had to use them." she shook her head, briefly meeting Lip's eyes, " It's war." The sympathy in his eyes was enough to ring true to her words and Lip gave a slight pitiful smile her way.

These were her Allies, but they did not need to pity her in anyway.

" You're all set," George said, as Natia wiggled around with the radio on her back, craning her neck back to look at it a bit, cocking her head to the side. Turning back, she met both Lip and George's eyes again.

" Interesting." she said really as her only comment as there was nothing much else to say with a radio strapped to your body. George grinned.

" I'll see you two around, I have to find Captain Winters, get us moving. Supposedly we're moving out towards Tongelre soon." Lip said and George pulled a face.

" Tonge-what?" George said exasperated. Lip just patted his shoulder.

" Keep an eye on him," Lip told Natia and Natia chuckled softly as George shook his head.

" They just say that sometimes, especially around me, you'll get used to it." George said.

" I'm sure I'll have to." Natia answered and George chuckled. At least someone thought her dry humor was rather hilarious. But the laugh diminished - she was laughing, she had let out a laugh. She hadn't laughed in what felt like ages. Her gaze suddenly fell cold, and all she saw in front of her was Agent Mortem, his cowering gaze of pure cockiness, watching her like the little, naive, child she had been. She was a child no more.

" Flip." a voice said and Natia's eyes snapped open. The streets had gotten slightly darker, a cloud crawling over them, as Natia put a hand clasped around the front of her collar, holding the front, clasping the front through her white knuckles, lungs gasping like a fish out of water. George's hand on her shoulder was the only thing steadying her. She had just met them and she was already crumpling.

She had to tell herself these guys were not Mortem - if anything he was the opposite, but she hadn't thought about him since she had left England, since she had tried to forget about Agent Fidel and her harrowing past - how many lives she had taken, souls she had shattered, eyes she had let go lifeless.

Agent Mortem had been why she was the way she was - IS the way she is.

Natia's eyes turned lifeless as the call for Easy Company's attention rang over the group.

Agent Mortem had been why she killed like she were the gun herself, and why she now wished she had never left home.

Agent Mortem had the best intentions, with the cruelest outcomes.

Natia would never forgive someone like himself - she had played his game, for 5 years.

She was done.

~*~*~*~*~*

Natia walked beside George Luz, taking up his easy gate - for such a large personality, he wasn't the tallest man, it suited him though.

On her other side was a man by the name Sergeant Johnny Martin.

Johnny, for her, had delivered a rather confused look, eyes watching hers as a wad of gum moved in his mouth. He hadn't nearly spoken as much as George had, but the second one of the so-called replacements that George had called them, opened their mouths, Johnny had offered a hard glare as an answer. He now walked beside her.

Natia watched his feet, as her submachine sat in her grasp, the mud squished underneath her boots, and soft beads of sweat trailed down her cheeks in the process. His beat was soft, but it was confident - a clear sign of an evident leader.

It seemed Johnny sensed her watching, so as nonchalantly as she could, Natia redirected her gaze to Lip a little in front of them, leading the various platoons forward, behind Battalion - or Headquarters where Captain Winters and Captain Nixon currently lead from.

Johnny watched her now - he, like many of the other men, were trying to figure her out.

She was an Agent - that's the most he knew - the one with devil-like eyes, but she was also a woman, a confident one at that, who didn't tarry in the face of another. She wore the radio like a trophy, the phone strap hanging over her shoulder, swinging back and forth a bit, as she walked beside Luz who chattered quietly to her, as she seemed to listen quietly, eyes shifting up to his every so often, a brief smile passing her lips as well.

A few months ago, he would've been opposed, for he had not known what the horror of war was or what the power of numbers was - now, war was not the war Johnny envisioned on June 6th, 1944.

It was September 17th, 1944 - the war had already changed.

" Hey, Fidel." Johnny said, taking a stab at conversation. Her head turned, eyes widened a bit, as if surprised he had spoken to her. George grew quiet, watching as Johnny watched her. Johnny smirked a bit, looking forward, as they continued through the suburbs of Eindhoven, fields stretching to the bridges and through the tiny homes of the town.

" What's that weapon you got there?" Johnny asked her and Natia's eyes moved down to the Blyskawica in her arms. George looked down too.

" Oh." Natia said quietly. Johnny cocked his head to the side, as Natia's grip tightened on the weapon.

Shit, Johnny had already messed up. She seemed cool, the way she walked, the way she talked, the way she seemed to draw every eye to her even when she didn't want it, easily someone he could get along with.

And she had seen war - no need ignoring and getting angry for no reason - he could be dead tomorrow.

He didn't want to regret being rude when there was no need.

" One of my friends, back in my old position." Natia said quietly, as she thought of Dwad, sitting by candlelight in 1942, as bombs ruptured Warsaw, cleaning up the tiny Blyskawica for her, managing to stay calm even under the explosives above. And then she thought of Felicjan - what were Dwad and Cezar now thinking - about both her AND Felicjan.

They thought she were dead now.

Natia swallowed, her throat becoming like sawdust, and she felt light-headed for a moment.

_Stop._

_Stop it!_

Natia looked to Johnny and cleared her throat.

" He was quite the tinker, still is, I think." her voice went quiet and Johnny watched her, as their boots continued squishing into the ground.

" He modified this for me, 2 years ago, all by himself. He's quite good at it." Natia smiled to herself, as she looked at the weapon again.

" I'm guessing that means you're the one that's been good with a radio then." Johnny said, voice still hesitant, but open enough for the conversation.

" I'm waiting for a radio signal, from my old base, actually. I've never been the best, but I was taught." Natia explained to Johnny. Johnny nodded, watching her, as they continued forward, through the quiet chatters, the yawns, and the nearing exhaustion that sat on everyone's shoulders.

" A radio signal?" Johnny asked her and Natia looked up at him, biting back her lip. She nodded.

" I need to reach my people and let them know I am alive and not dead. They must believe I'm dead now, for the Nazis took me a few days ago." she said and Johnny's eyes widened a bit.

" You escaped?" George asked Natia from her other side, who nodded.

" I had to kill them, I had to." she said and both George and Johnny met each other's eyes.

Already, she had seen more war than many of them and more death and had taken more lives than many of the men in the company now.

No wonder she was guarded, a bit closed off compared to the rest of the group, and rather hesitant for most conversations, even if she seemed confident.

Natia looked at her hands, uncoiling one from the submachine and staring at it as if there was blood still on her fingertips. She grimaced. George clenched his jaw for a moment.

" Hey," George said and she looked up at him, trying to act like a wave of crushing guilt just hadn't hit her like a pile of bricks, " you gotta favorite movie? Everyone's gotta favorite movie." Johnny briefly chuckled from beside Natia, as she glanced his way, rather confused. Natia figured in the way Johnny approached her, he, himself, like her, was somewhat guarded, but as they talked, he slowly loosened up a bit, even if he held back. She was doing the same.

" What?" Natia asked. Johnny chuckled again.

" You're going to tell him your favorite movie, and he's going to start reciting it." Johnny said, through chuckles. Natia turned to look back up at George was a raised brow, a smirk on his lips.

" What? It's a specialty." George said and Natia couldn't help, but feel a grin spread on her face.

" Does it come with any sides?" Natia offered him and it made George chuckle even more.

" Quote, song, and reenactment, if you wish." George said through a laugh and Natia couldn't help but let out a tiny laugh, covering her hand over her mouth as she did so, shaking her head a bit. George watched her, covering her mouth with her hand, as she laughed and he cocked his head to the side.

He thought she had a beautiful smile, why cover it up?

But he didn't push, it had been only a few hours with the woman in their care.

The rest of the way, George continued to chatter about and Natia let him, laughing a bit throughout at a few of his off-handed comments, or Johnny chiming in beside them occasionally.

For a moment, Natia hadn't worried about the war, or Warsaw or the radio signal, or any of it.

It was quite nice, even under the soft sun of Holland, in unexplored waters for Natia. Johnny was engaging, even if he held back a bit, but it was nice to not be left alone. And George and his stories distracted her for a moment from the war. She felt the men here, even if they were a bit immature, understood the war for what is was, and this far into it, no one gets left alone or behind.

The walk to Tongelre lead for a few hours, after gathering everyone together, moving through the streets and the suburbs until reaching the large farm that was positioned on the outskirts, under the cover of night fall. A handful of the NCOs began calling out to their men, signaling that it was time to rest, or bed down, or try and eat something - they had called it a K-ration.

Natia stood in the darkness, watching men start to dig some foxholes, lie down next to hay bails or start to gather in groups to begin their K-rations.

" Flip," George's voice said beside her and Natia looked to him, " you can hang with me." Natia nodded, trying not to show the relief she felt when her fellow radioman said those words to her.

" Thanks." she said and George smiled at her under the cover of his shadowed helmet. Natia followed after George through the little groups that were spread around, her footsteps quiet and she prayed no one recognized she were the mysterious woman, the SOE Agent, none of it - simply just another, blended into the ranks at this point.

George led her over to one of the hay bails and then stopped, shaking off the radio from his shoulders, until it gently fell and dropped a few inches into the hay.

" Here, let's get that radio off of ya, it gets pretty heavy after a while." George said as he turned her around, and gently helped pull the large radio from her shoulders, before planting it next to his in the darkness.

" It wasn't that heavy." Natia said honestly to him - it was unlike the weight she had already carried for years on end. George smirked at her, removing his helmet and letting it land next to the radio.

" Yeah, I know, but you deserve a break too, ya know." he said, before turning and letting himself collapse into the hay, beside his radio, before letting out a sigh. Natia stood there quietly, watching blankly ahead of her, swallowing thickly.

No one had ever told her she deserved a break, a break of some sort, because for 5 years she had gotten none. The only thing that brought her back to the reality was the sound of George opening a K-ration. Natia's eyes moved down to where his hands worked on the K-ration and she shook her head to clear her mind.

_Sit down._

Natia moved to sit down next to her radio, settling in between the two radios beside George, up against the warm hay bail, that protected them from the cool gusts of night air. The second she did, she looked over to George who was beside her, who tore open one of the tiny packs and pulled out what looked like pieces of bread to her. Her eyes narrowed upon it and George glanced at her with a little laugh.

" It's good I promise ya." George said.

" Army food?" she answered back to him and George just laughed as she took the bread under the moonlight and stared at it. George chuckled a bit at her seemingly confused nature, her eyes watching the piece of bread as if it were to jump up and bite her. Natia sniffed it and then took a bite, chewing thoughtfully on the bread. It was almost sweet in a way, but also not super bland.

" You like?" Natia glanced at George and then nodded. She was quieter her now, her mood from earlier having diminished, it was like she was a small child again, as she stared at the food, nibbling on tiny bits every so often, carefully, as if it would disappear any moment.

" We didn't have much food back in my old position." she said - she could see the look he was giving her. A pity look. She didn't deserve them. George leaned back a bit, a slow nod releasing from himself as he did so, as he understood.

" But this tastes nice..." Natia said her voice trailing off briefly, " so thank you." Her look was hesitant, but she was grateful, at least that's what it looked like. She hadn't felt a warmth like this in so long, it almost shattered the walls of her icy heart, piercing through the cold which bore down on her soul. It was nice to be cared for, even if it was just a small slice of bread for an offer.

George watched Natia finish the slice of bread in peace with herself, no need to really talk to anyone or anything, or even draw her eyes from the ground. George didn't mind it, even he tired after a while or chattering on and on.

" Hey, there Luz." a voice called and Natia immediately tensed up when she didn't recognize it.

" Hey, uh...mind keeping your voice down?" George asked the man, as Natia didn't dare let her eyes travel upwards. Her stomach had turned sour, and her throat clenched.

Natia slowly looked up and was immediately met with hard eyes, gated barriers over the dragon iris inside. Natia looked away, her face burning suddenly, as her eyes redirected to the bread.

" You Agent Fidel?" the man asked her. Natia let out a shaky breath and then nodded, refusing to move any other body part to look in his direction. She didn't like the harsh tone of his voice - Americans seemed to have a harsher tone though in their words.

" Right," the man said, his gaze on George before looking at her, " I'm Joe Toye.....Sergeant."

Natia was quiet.

Any wave of confidence she had earlier had all but disappeared and the guards had slowly fell as night approached.

Agent Mortem would've told her to never let her guards fall in front of anyone, even if you trusted them - you weren't supposed to trust anyone in his eyes. Natia swallowed. But she wasn't him and she didn't want to continue playing this game. These American soldiers were making her realize she didn't want to play any game besides her own.

" She's had a rough day, Joe.....maybe tomorrow." George offered. And Natia shut her eyes, suddenly feeling a wave of guilt for acting as cold-hearted as she was. It was like her heart dropped into her chest - it was her fault.

" Yeah, get some rest George." Sergeant Toye said quietly, his voice softer than it hard been. She could sense him turning to look at her and the little piece of sweet bread.

" Get some rest, Fidel." And his voice was genuine. Natia didn't even move or respond, and she could tell it was enough for Sergeant Toye to stand and move - she hadn't even met his eyes. She heard him walk away, his footsteps moving along the Earth, leading away from the hay bail. Natia opened her eyes and let out a shaky breath that followed.

Slowly glancing over to her left where Sergeant Toye had gone, she saw him arrive where another group was, sitting down in the circle, glancing over his shoulder a bit and looking her way. She looked down again.

Not being in the middle of Warsaw and the main part of the war for her, brought this out even more.

How broken she truly was.

And all she wanted now was a hug from her mother or her father or Klimeck or Ryzshard - from her family. But they were all gone, and she was so alone.

Natia slowly wrapped her arms around herself and hugged herself close. George watched her; suddenly the bread not as appetizing as it had been.

" Natia?" George asked quietly, as he watched her shoulders tense up - she was trying to be strong, she was trying to hold herself, she was trying not to break in front of a man she had just met.

" I'm fine." she managed out, squeezing her eyes shut. She wasn't, but saying it out loud felt better than holding it back in her heart. It hurt less.

Natia instead pulled her radio into her lab, the new one the Americans had given her and started giving it the same rundown as she did with the little Dutch radio, now long gone. Of course, she would keep all the Americans' information in check, but her contact to Warsaw was most important for her in this moment - she needed to get back home. She'd already been gone for so long.

When Natia finished and she knew George was asleep, she finally settled in the hay beside him. Curling on her side, she put her back to where George lay asleep, curled up like a child. Natia's mind wouldn't settle, as she listened to George's gentle breathing beside her, the chatter of the men slowly settling as well. Her hands were curled against her body, her nose running from the cold wind, and her head gave a dull ache from food actually in her body and the want for more.

She saw the men called NCOs doing rounds, checking in on all the men, each group, making sure they were comfortable, before moving on. It was comforting, knowing someone was awake at all times, making sure everyone was safe, getting rest, and comfortable. She hadn't felt that in a long time.

So that night she finally rested, shutting her eyes, as the soft snores leaving George's lips every so often, and fell asleep, and rested well for the first time in a long time.

Death softly looked down at the young woman, finally shutting her eyes to the dark world, and slowly dipped his head - _for even she deserved a moment of peace._

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H I S T O R I C A L N O T E S

No historical notes for this chapter!!! :)

A / N

HELLO!!!! MERRY CHRISTMAS HAPPY

HOLIDAYS OR IF YOU DONT CELEBRATE I HOPE YOURE HAVING A WONDERFUL DAY!!!!! :) Consider this a present from me to you all for the support you've all given me with this story and with Natia! It's been an incredible story and I'm so incredibly excited to continue sharing it! This will be the last 2020 update and look out for the first update of 2021 next Friday!!! January 1st!!! <3 Thank you all, take time today with families or friends and stay safe most importantly!!! Thank you all! :)


	22. Death’s Faith

_**INTRODUCING: Cillian Murphy as Agent Mortem** _

" None of us really changes over time. We only become more fully what we are."

_\- Anne Rice, **The Vampire Lestat**_

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_**Pollards Park House, Chalfont Street Giles** _

_**September 2nd, 1940** _

Natia vaguely remembered Agent Mortem the night previous telling her as to why he would no longer refer to her simply by Fidel - her evidently ironic codename to which she'd gone by for quite some time now. 

No, Agent Mortem, liked to tack on 'Agent', he felt it better represented the work she were doing, her importance on her missions - to be able to be addressed by a term such as Agent, instead of simply just Fidel, he thought was a power move. But he was always feeding off power. Natia wanted nothing to do with it. But Agent Mortem had continuously called her Agent and so she went by it now - it was better than nothing.

" Hold your elbow straighter, a stiff arm won't falter, a lazy one will, Agent." Agent Mortem said quietly from beside her in the dim light of his office. Natia straightened her arm a bit, locking her elbow, as the pistol barrel stayed pointed at the dummy. Briefly licking her lips, Natia tilted her head to the side a bit for a clearer shot, her mind was cleared, her vision set, and her breathing rate steady.

" Who do you see?" Mortem asked her and Natia almost met his gaze. Almost. She didn't though - she would lose sight of the enemy, her target, her opposition.

" A burlap sack," she muttered a bit sarcastically, making Mortem chuckle the slightest bit it seemed.

" How you humor me," he said, his cane pattering against the ground as he twirled it a bit in his fingers, " try again." Natia bit back her lip.

" I see my enemy." she told him firmly, " With blood-red eyes, the enemy symbol on his cap, cold, lifeless hands-"

" Your enemy, yes." Mortem stopped her, " Control yourself, Agent, you won't go saying that to some person you don't know."

" Maybe I will." Natia said, as her finger danced upon the trigger. Mortem's gaze narrowed.

" What?"

" Maybe I will, if I'm in danger." she told him, " You need Allies in war." Mortem chuckled, his deep laugh guttural and low - it came from the pits of his chest.

" You can trust no one Agent Fidel." Mortem told her, gently tapping his cane against the toe of his boot, " For trust leads to imminent danger and lies and betrayal, even death. Even simple assumptions - they're the most." Natia let out a shaky breath, and tried to clear her head.

" It's because you had no trust in anyone, not even yourself." Natia spat out, her eyes relying on the target to keep her breathing and awake. The cane stopped tapping against the toe of the boot and Natia's grip on the pistol turned white.

" Who do you see now, Agent Fidel?" Mortem hissed quietly like a snake, beside her, gently resting a hand on her shoulder as he lifted up the cane in front of him, pointing forward towards the dummy propped up against the mantle, " Who. Do you see?"

" The enemy." she spat out, " The enemy." Her eyes narrowed.

" No." Mortem hissed, " I see your parents, your siblings, your friends-"

" Shut up."

" You can't trust anyone in war, Agent, even the ones you have grown to love. Because even they could betray you as well." Mortem whispered quietly, as her jaw clenched.

" My parents are dead." she managed out, as tears crawled to her eyes, " And they have been for quite some time." Her lip was trembling, this is what he wanted. He wanted to see her break, to falter, to crumble to pieces. But no, the dummy was her enemy, it was not her parents.

" I see your parents, Agent." Mortem said quietly - this was all his game, it was all apart of this game that he forced her to play about. 

And her mind was slowly feeding it. 

And Natia saw her parents, their smiles scrawled across their faces, eyes filed with tears, pleading for Natia not to pull the trigger, the bullet that would end their life. But they were dead, and Natia hadn't killed them, it had been the enemy - the Nazis. But she was their own enemy now. Because she was no one, and was now everyone's enemy.

" I see your parents, Agent Fidel." Mortem said again, louder, as a tear spilled from her brown eyes, her form faltering and shaking, as she watched horror-stricken, as her parents stood in front of her, their calls muted by the blood rushing in her ears, their cries falling on the ground in puddles of murky water, where anything that went in, never came out.

" Pull the trigger, Agent Fidel." And Natia pulled the trigger, squeezing her eyes shut, as tears slowly dripped past her cheeks, following. The loud crack, penetrated through the burlap, hitting the golden mantle behind it just where hundreds of other bullets had previously hit. 

Natia collapsed to her knees, as tears formed faster in her eyes almost every second, anguish and grief striking her body in front of Mortem, who stood like Death himself overtop of her. He watched her cry, body shaking and quivering under his glance. For he had been like that too - realizing he could trust no one but his poor crippled self. 

He had grown - and so could she.

" Stand up, Agent." ordered Mortem. She refused to move, to play this game, to be his obedient little servant who obeyed his every rule.

" No." she snapped, her tear filled eyes meeting his, as his lip trembled, " You wanted me to shoot my gun, you wanted me to believe it was my parents even though they're already dead."

" No, you poor thing." Mortem said, stepping closer, " Don't you see? You can trust no one, only yourself." Natia met his gaze and sneered. 

She had trusted him in that moment, she had been dependent upon him, his words, her mind feeding off his.

" I can't even trust myself, when you made me believe I just shot my parents who've been dead for over a year!" she snapped at him. Mortem grinned.

" Then you'll learn." Mortem said, " Because now you trust no being in this world. Now you must learn to trust only yourself above all else."

" But-"

" No buts Agent Fidel. I've been where you've stood before and it hasn't been pretty. But with my trust in myself, I've gotten farther in life than the ones who pushed me to the ground." Natia watched Mortem as he spoke.

" You don't know me." she spat, " Get out of my head."

" My, my, Agent Fidel. I'm already in."

_**Tongelre, Eindhoven, Holland** _

_**September 18th, 1944** _

_**0630** _

_**49 days since the Uprising** _

The first thing Natia felt on her cheeks the next day was warmth, genuine warmth - the sun. 

Natia gently let her eyes open, a newfound heaviness setting in, as she stared forward, the sun shining down as it began to rise above the tree line of the forest nearby. A slight chill of a breeze ran forward across her skin, causing her to only curl into a ball further, curling her arms tighter against her body, chin tucked down into her Olive Drab and hands shoved away, to prevent from getting any colder. But the warmth of the sun came back again and her skin immediately began sucking in whatever warmth it could. It felt quite nice. 

But then her mind traveled, far away from Tongelre towards Warsaw and all she thought about was the people she loved most, her siblings and her friends, waiting 4 days by now, slowly starting to accept the death of their sister, their friend. 

Natia squeezed her eyes shut as she tried to cover the memory with something else, but with such far, few and in between memories scattered around inside her brain that were reminiscent of the happy times she had previously had, it was unlikely that she would cover it up entirely. 

What pushed her from the dark circle that enveloped her mind was George's quiet snoring that sounded right beside her still. A gentle, rhythmic pattern of the sleeping George Luz. Which meant he wasn't awake. Her head gave a dull pound and her eyes immediately were the ones searching for a canteen, but came up with nothing. 

Where had she put it? 

Finally, Natia simply sat up, pushing up from the warmth the hay bails seemed to bring in and in the soft morning light, adjusted her body up against the large hay bail sat on it's side. She let out a soft sigh, as she stared forward, seeing the various groups that had once been filled with life, passed out in small circles, asleep in foxholes, their heads poking out the top, or half awake forms shifting around quite a bit. 

Natia sat stark still, her body refraining from movement - but that had been drilled into her every day to her for a year and training. Now she did it without second though, sitting still, no drawing of attention, nothing. Natia cast her eyes down towards George who was still curled on his side next to her, eyes gently closed, sleeping almost peacefully it seemed. Sure, his body gave a few twitches, but at least he still looked alive when he slept. 

She slept like she were a corpse, she slept like she were already dead. 

Natia looked up and again and her gaze darkened almost immediately when she saw a figure moving about, moving through the people, kneeling down for a quick check and then continuing on, but she softened immediately when she saw that it was just Johnny. She wasn't sure if she should be comforted by the fact she thought of him as 'just Johnny', but it put her at ease a bit more that she knew him. And he didn't seem to bother much that she was an Agent or a woman - two things deemed inferior by the enemy - she was accepted for being human. 

That's all anyone wished to be accepted for anymore in this war.

" Hey, Fidel." he said as he approached in the early morning mist, gently removing his helmet - she could see the shiny perspiration forming its early morning layer of dew across the top. And when Natia saw him remove his helmet, it broke down another barrier. He was just a man now - the helmet covered that, it made them blend, it made them all look the exact same, but with it removed, he simply looked human. Natia managed a small nod.

" Hey," she said and Johnny smiled a bit, at the progress. A simply 'hey' could've meant a lot to her.

" Sleep well?" Johnny asked her, as he came to a crouch in front of her, eyes watching her gently. Natia nodded.

" Yeah, never thought a hay bail could be this comfortable." she said and Johnny chuckled a bit in the quiet.

" Yeah, who would've thought, right?" he asked her and she nodded, " Especially when you got this guy as a partner." Natia let a grin pass her lips, and a slight nod form.

" A few kicks to the groin to shut up a snore never hurt anyone." she said with a shrug and Johnny's eyes grew wide as she snickered to herself, making Johnny follow with a chuckle.

" Right, well, we're moving out soon. Maybe give him a few more to wake him the hell up." Johnny said as he stood to his feet and adjusted his helmet firmly on his head then, " Maybe we can finish up this rodeo and get the fuck outta here."

" You're not the only one who wishes that." she said, as she ran a hand across her slightly sweaty forehead and Johnny smiled a bit.

" Glad I'm not." Natia looked up to meet his gaze, and smiled slightly. With a gentle nod, Johnny eventually moved along - as an NCO it was his job - just like Natia's had been as a Lieutenant before her demotion in the Home Army. She let herself relax for a moment. 

But that's when another figure began moving from her right and her eyes slowly trained on it as if it were a predator ready to capture it's prey - her head barely moved, but her eyes watched every inch of their body, the helmet on their head, everything. And they were coming right for her. Her hand itched for the pistol at her side, or the knife in her belt, something anything - it was pure instinct, and one she couldn't get out of. 

But suddenly, her eyes caught the medic symbol upon their sleeve and her hand relaxed, straying from the grasp of the pistol. But Natia didn't dare let her gaze move from this man's presence as he approached her, closer and closer. And then his eyes met hers and they both seemed to freeze, watching one another. Studying each other.

" Agent Fidel." the man said, his voice surprisingly much softer than she had anticipated it to be, she was almost certain she hadn't heard it quite right. She slowly nodded. She had to remind herself he was in fact American and not the enemy.

" Doc Roe." he offered her, whatever accent that seemed to lace his voice, ringing out quite loud and clear amongst the bushes beside the hay bail, " Eugene Roe." The two watched each other and finally Natia set her hand back down in the hay bail. Doc Roe slowly hobbled forward and then took a crouching position out in front of her, glancing around a bit, eyeing George, before looking at her.

" I meant to introduce myself yesterday, but I ran out of time. I'm one of the company's medics." he explained to her, reaching a hand out in front of himself to shake. She wanted to shake his hand. Natia slowly inched forward and gently shook his hand - she even noticed a tiny smile appear on his face under the cover of his helmet.

" Firm grip." he said as the two retracted hands and Natia nodded slightly.

" I've held a few too many guns in the past." Doc Roe grinned. But then, her eyes went to his hip, where a canteen lay right on his belt. Her eyes narrowed again and Doc Roe seemed to notice the way her eyes went to the canteen.

" Lose your canteen?" he asked her and Natia vaguely nodded. Doc Roe quickly turned and pulled the canteen from his belt without hesitation and offered it forwards towards her. Natia watched him for a moment before accepting the canteen from his outstretched hand and taking it into her grasp. But she was quick to bring it to her lips and gladly take down the sips of water, all while convincing herself that this Doc Roe was trying to help her, and that right now he was actively helping her. The second she pulled down the canteen, she felt much better, more refreshed, and gladly let Doc Roe take it back from her grasp.

" Thank you." she said and Doc Roe gave a slight dip of his head to signify a nod it seemed, as he adjusted the canteen to his belt. He looked back up at her and found Natia already watching him with a chin raised slightly in the air, eyes concentrating on his.

" You speak English well," Doc Roe told her. Natia slowly nodded.

" I have spoken the language since I was a child," she said, " my parents thought it was only right." Doc Roe noticed how she didn't continue on the point for any longer. Natia's mind crumbled at the mere thought of her parents and the pit that twisted inside her stomach was enough of a signal for it. 

But Doc Roe was a medic, and for her, he seemed a good one at that - she felt, after how war had given him that Death-like look in his eye, he deserved to be given an ounce of respect back. For Death can sometimes overtake souls who are not deserving of it. Doc Roe looked at her and cleared his throat.

" How are you feeling?" Doc Roe asked her, his eyes watching hers, as she nodded.

" I'm okay," she said with a nod and Doc Roe nodded.

" Good," he said as he flipped his pack closed and stood to his feet again. Natia watched him and then tensed.

" Can I ask you a question, Doc Roe?" It seemed her question was quite funny to Doc Roe, but he looked at her, with a pair of brighter eyes.

" It's just Doc if you prefer, or Gene." he said as he looked down at her, the sun illuminating his features. Natia nodded, slightly embarrassed maybe and looked back up at him.

" The guys, are they....um, some seem, I don't know..."

" Angry?" Doc offered and Natia met his gaze harshly and nodded back. Doc glanced at George still resting peacefully beside her.

" I wouldn't use the word angry to describe them." Doc said and Natia watched him as he slowly crouched in front of her again. She was confused. 

" War's not been too kind I'd say," Doc offered to her with a gentle nod, " to anyone really." Natia nodded.

" I don't think it's supposed to." she said back, crossing her arms, a sighing to herself.

" This group's been training together since 1942," Doc told her, his fingertips tapping together to keep warm, " they went through one of the toughest COs of the Airborne together, crossed an ocean together, made their jump into Normandy together, survived the first campaign of war together." Natia watched Doc Roe, as her heart slowly began to fall into an even more shallow beat. She wasn't sure what to feel, as she glanced over towards George and suddenly guilt hit her.

" They know what war is," Doc told her, " and they know no one should suffer alone in war. Few may have a difference of opinions, but for most, I don't think they want to see anyone else have to die for a war like this." 

Natia shut her eyes, in a pain-filled grief. George had willingly taken her under his wing, allowing her to walk beside him, telling her nearly everything off the top of his mind to keep her distracted from the fact she was so far from home, offered her the K-ration off his own back, and then slept beside her to ensure her safety. And all she had remained was distant and cold and utterly closed-off. 

Natia watched George sleep so peacefully and looked back towards Doc Roe. He could see the guilt filtering into her eyes and Doc Roe was quick to crouch closer to her.

" You're not alone, Fidel. Not anymore." Doc Roe told her. 

The briefing from Captain Winters had been enough to send him on the path to Agent Fidel - now in front of her presence, he could truly see Agent Fidel, not just the image that had been talked about over and over by a few particular men with a mouth. 

Those words were not words Natia had heard for quite some time and it caused her gaze to fall and her hands to wrap around herself as if she were hugging herself again, hiding away from the world, or at least an attempt to. She needed to get her mind off of this, all of this. She was fine. And she was fine - alone.

" Can I please speak to Captain Winters? About today's movements, I just remembered I had to speak to him." Natia asked Doc Roe, quickly moving to her feet, as Doc Roe scrambled to stand after her, watching her, slowly building the walls, the fortifications yet again, as her gaze turned icy, and closed off yet again.

" Yes." Doc Roe told her, " I can take you to him. I just came from there." Natia nodded and then turned and pulled her radio onto her back - the first time without George's help - and for a moment, Doc Roe couldn't help but notice how strong she was for such a thin and tiny woman. 

He figured she could drop-kick even someone like Sergeant Guarnere. 

Natia huffed as the radio settled onto her back, and hoping not to wake George, bent down to pull the helmet atop her head, before pulling her pistol and submachine to her shoulder and waist before turning to Doc Roe. Doc Roe thought she'd fit right in. 

The War was in her eyes and Death clasped her hands, Agent Mortem was her mind - maybe she wasn't even alive anymore by this point. 

Following after Doc Roe through the rows of Easy Company men, she began spotting familiar faces that she had seen amongst the crowd. Not ones she had bothered to think on again, entirely, but now instead she stared back. There were whispers to follow - they always did. 

Doc Roe led her through a spout of high grass and for a moment, she felt she were in the fairytale land of J.R.R Tolkien's The Hobbit, a book her mother had taken off the shelves the minute it were sold to all. Natia didn't know where the book had gone - she figured it had long ago been destroyed in the fires that destroyed her home. 

As they approached the general assembly of various leaders, she spotted Colonel Sink amongst the ranks, as well as Lieutenants, Compton and Welsh, with another 2 Lieutenants by their side, and then Captain Winters and Captain Nixon, the Map-Keeper. Her eyes narrowed. But Doc Roe suddenly stopped and turned to her as she approached him.

" I have to head back out to the men," he told her, looking down at her in the sunlight. Natia watched him. And she was just starting to feel comfortable with the medic's presence. 

Back under the eyes of men whom she felt she barely had an ounce of trust within. Her nod was enough to send Doc Roe off as Natia gulped and then slowly took initiative forward. 

" Agent Fidel." Captain Winters voice called the second he spotted her, and the general majority of men in the proximity went quiet as they watched Natia trail quite confidently towards Captain Winters. 

" Captain Winters." came her response as she saluted, the radio bouncing on her back as she did so, " I'm here to discuss today's movements with you." Captain Winters watched her. It was quiet, too quiet, and she cleared her throat. She glanced towards the general assembly of men, and watched as their eyes preyed on her in the soft sunlight of the day. Colonel Sink watched her from where he stood in the light and cleared his throat.

" Agent Fidel," Colonel Sink started, " you're authorized to be apart of the company, but only until we can get you back to safety. This doesn't mean you're leading our men into battle." Natia felt her already warm cheeks, slowly heat under the persistent sun and she swallowed softly to herself, almost embarrassed for herself to think she could walk up and think such a thing. Her throat grew tight from the uncertainty she felt, like standing on a shaky rock over water.

" Sorry, sir," she said nodding to him," I didn't mean.....I just thought...Nuenen isn't..." 

Natia set herself straight, pushing her mouth into a thin line as she stood where she was, all alone in the grass that stretched up from the ground like wheat, her gaze dark with the helmet tipped over her eyes darkly. She'd heard whispers as they had left Eindhoven yesterday - Nuenen. Nuenen would get them killed.

" The Germans have merely retreated, they have not left Holland open to be taken by the Allies. I've fought enough of this war to know that. And I'm just trying to help where I can to save more of your men than get them killed," she said, taking in a tiny breath as she stood, beginning to sweat under the tense gazes of the American men who watched her. 

Natia had stood in this position before, she'd collected too many flowers that day for graves that shouldn't have even needed to be dug. It had been a slaughter, she hoped this wouldn't be the same for what it was worth.

" We're under British Command, Agent Fidel, I'm afraid we'll have to follow through. They wouldn't lead us astray though, I'm sure we'll be fine." Colonel Sink said to her, before nodding and going back to his initial discussion with the higher ranking members of Headquarters. Natia's gaze narrowed slightly.

" Agent Fidel." Captain Winters said, his voice dangerously low. Natia let out a huff and then moved over towards him, muttering to herself out of annoyance.

" It's walking into a trap." she said once she had moved over to Captain Winters, where the Map-Keepers presence lingered, " The Nazis just don't leave a country like Holland wide open next to the English Channel, letting it crawl with-"

" Agent Fidel." Captain Winters said again and Natia's eyes darted up to his, her mouth slowly clamping shut in the process, as her darkened gaze watched over his own.

" Might I remind you that here, you are not Colonel Sink or the British Command or the CO. I'm sorry to have to put you in your place and remind you of the your position. You are an assigned radio operator." Captain Winters told her. 

Natia knew she had stepped too far out of line. 

The freedoms of the Home Army were not to be compared to the harsh containments of what the United States Army offered. Everyone had a role, a position, a place. They had lost too many lives in the Polish Home Army for everyone to keep their position the same. She wasn't finished yet, her eyes set on the Map-Keeper within seconds.

" Can I please see your map?" she asked, hoping the sarcasm that seemed to lace her voice wasn't evident to Captain Nixon's ears, but by the smirk covering his features, it was more than evident.

" Sure," he said, pulling it out and handing it to her, " gonna go treasure hunting-" The glare from her eyes was enough to send even him shutting his mouth and a glance from Captain Winters.

" There's a war on," she muttered, as she opened up the map in front of her, gaze set on Holland - in map form - in front of her, " the only hunting is for Nazis and their souls at this point, sir." Captain Nixon seemed to get a chuckle out of that as Captain Winters only shut his eyes for a brief moment to calm himself down. 

Clearly, she and Captain Winters did not work on the same path. 

She smirked as her eyes moved along the map in front of her.

" So," Captain Nixon said, " care to explain?"

" Gladly." Natia answered, before clearing her throat, " Nuenen, right up and to the Northeast? The Nazis aren't stupid and wouldn't leave a country like Holland for old men and kids. If you want to get through, anticipate an attack nearly anywhere. I made mistakes in my time, and anticipate an attack around every corner."

" It's how you've made it along this long." Captain Nixon said and she nodded.

" Yes, sir." she answered with a firm nod, " How else?"

" Beer and cigarettes?" Captain Nixon offered.

" Not comforting enough." she answered and Captain Nixon's smirk fell a bit. Natia ignored it and continued work on the maps.

" If you think we're going to roll right through Nuenen, I'm afraid to say you're vastly underestimating the Nazis and what their capable of. They might've run from Eindhoven, but they don't run from war." she said quietly, " And I suggest you take that precautionary." 

Rolling up the map, she handed it back to the Map-Keeper and adjusted the radio on her back, ignoring the looks from the two Captains. And her words, she hated how they sounded - but she knew war and she knew what these Nazis were like and she did not wish for what had happened to her people to happen to a group like Easy Company. 

" Colonel Sink has already stated-"

" Colonel Sink can say what he pleases, he is a leader. But I am willing to state my opinion because I am also human who has fought plenty in this war, killed..." Natia stated, looking up at the two, " Sir." Then Natia adjusted her helmet and turned.

" Agent Fidel." Captain Winters called to her, stopping her in her tracks. Natia didn't turn, she just let Captain Winters' icy gaze fester on her for longer than she should've let it.

" You are to stay with your platoon until further notice." Captain Winters stated, " You are apart of this company, but you are not an officer." Natia shut her eyes for a moment, trying not to get fed up, trying not to get frustrated with herself for the absolutely idiotic idea of asking Doc Roe to take her to Captain Winters. 

Natia knew Captain Winters cared for his men, she knew that just as much as the next guy did, but it was too similar to the words any leader had previously ever told her, degrading her to her lowest. 

She knew Captain Winters had seen war, and he knew the effect of war on his men and he had seen the effect of war on Natia - only knowing her for less than 24 hours and he had seen the effects of war 5 years along. 

But now it was like it was all over again - Agent Mortem staring her down from across the chess board, watching her every move, pushing her further and further into thinking she was simply a pawn.

A weapon. She was always a mere weapon. 

But this was her game, she controlled the board - it was no longer his game or anyone else's game - Agent Mortem had good intentions, but that never meant it all came out well-off in the end.

" I never wish to be. This is my only choice." she said, glancing back over her shoulder towards him. 

Felicjan had given her this passage - he was the one who died for her to live. 

And here she was - living. 

This was her only choice.

" This is no place for someone like me."

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H I S T O R I C A L N O T E S

> Pollards Park House, Chalfont Street Giles was where Polish SOE Agents ended up training while in England! In this scenario, Natia is training with the 'hinted-at' secret Agent Mortem whom you will learn more about as the fic progresses, but he plays a highly major part in Natia's life, revolving around mind-control, manipulation, and emotional abuse, through the thought of doing good, but with horrible outcomes through good intentions and poor execution. Natia did poorly at first in SOE training, refusing to do her training, or anything related and she gets sent to work with Agent Mortem who essentially makes her a 'war-machine'. He sees himself in her and wants to make sure she doesn't turn out like himself - this however was not executed well at all.

A / N

_HAPPY NEW YEAR!!! To 2021! Praying for a fresh start and a happy year for 2021, and that we continue staying positive and working through these rough patches. We're all in this together and I feel right now more than ever, it's been fic to get me through it all. Just writing, seeing your comments, chatting with you on here or Tumblr, just makes my day and has helped me more than anything! Let's keep uplifting others, staying positive, doing what you need to do for you, and focusing on your mental health are all valid things this year for me and possibly for all of you!!_

_Thank you all for reading and those of you who read today, for starting off 2021 in Landslide today aha!! These past few months have been such a journey that I have enjoyed more than anything and Landslide has taught me so much about me and my writing capabilities. Thank you all!! <3 Enjoy and happy reading!_


	23. War’s Pawn

" There are times when a well-placed pawn is more powerful than a king."

\- Unknown

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_**Pollards Park House, Chalfont Street Giles** _

_**September 25th, 1940** _

" Your move." Agent Mortem said, eyes watching her own from across the chessboard fixated on the golden oakwood table that lay freshly wiped down from blood that had poured from the wound Natia had just under her eye.

Too many fights, Agent Mortem had told her.

Too many reckless fights for reckless reasons. He had told her she wasn't thinking or that she wasn't using her mind - she heard it daily, what was the point in repeating it. She was sure Klimeck and Ryzshard were worried beyond compare, leaving in early August had been stressful enough for her two siblings, with an unknown return to follow. But the jump into Poland was approaching quicker than Natia would've liked - February.

And if she didn't pass here, she'd never pass a thing.

Natia studied the chess board, just like she had the day before, looking at each piece, every possible combination emerging inside her head.

" For such an intelligent young woman, you sure are quite slow in making your decisions."

" I'm an intelligent young woman, not a prodigy." she said, as she took a knight and made her move across the board.

It seemed Agent Mortem failed to under the basic concept that it was not quite the matter of your speed, rather the mere process of what your decision was to be. Because in war, not all death's came just as fast as the quick ones. It was all his game - distraction was key.

In war, you were nearly always distracted. But he never realized that sometimes the words were no longer a game, but simple reality - they hurt. But she had to play harder than that.

Words without action was nothing in this world it seemed - especially in war.

Agent Mortem chuckled quietly as he sat back, lighting up a cigarette and placing it upon his lip. The smoke blew out from his lips, eyes watching the chess board.

" Tell me, why did you fight that boy?" Agent Mortem asked her as Natia gingerly touched the fresh wound underneath the eyelid.

" It wasn't a boy, it was a man. And it was a man who seemed to have a deep-seeded opinion-"

" It was a boy, if he was immature enough to fight someone like you - he was a boy."

" He fought like he knew what he was doing, not scrap fighting. Your move." She didn't want to talk about the fight anymore. It was her own fault, she now had a wound under her eye to remind her of it. A fight for no purpose - like this entire war. Agent Mortem chuckled. He hadn't distracted her from the ulterior motive quite yet.

" What was your first move?" Agent Mortem asked her, leaning forward to move a pawn forward, diagonal to her own pawn. He did that on purpose.

" Not what was my first move, who made the first move. And it was him." she said, and instead moved her rook - he could take her pawn. For if she moved her pawn and took his, the queens were in open range for one another - and that would not be good, for either of them.

Agent Mortem watched her - he had not expected that move from her. So, Natia sat back, gaze steady watching his own. Mortem smiled. She was going down the right path, the exact right path, carved out by no one but herself.

" Alright, well if it was him who made the first move, there must've been something to instigate it somehow." Agent Mortem said, " More than just a glare." Natia rolled her eyes.

" Alright, I know I can be annoyance more than I want, but I have motives. That ass had no motives except for being an ass himself." she said, " He had no singular motive except a want for violence."

" Sounds like someone I know." Mortem said putting the smoke on his lip again. This is what he wanted. He wanted her to get angry, to get distracted yet again from the game, for her own selfish defense of herself. But this was too far, even for Agent Mortem.

" I did not wish for this!" she snapped, pushing up to her feet, her eyes like a raging fire as she stared down at him, " I did not wish to lose my family, to leave my country and come into this strange world. I did not chose this life!" Breathing heavy, Mortem chuckled. He had the audacity to chuckle as she seethed like a raging lunatic. Agent Mortem stood, pulling the smoke from his lip as he stood above her and the chess game. He thought he was bigger than them both.

" Why of course you did. You wished to be here." Agent Mortem said, stepping around her and the game towards the giant window where rain speckled the glass from the outside world, letting in no light, but instead darkness. It was all his game, his stupid mind game, twisting and warping her words into his own, messing with her head until near desolation. The dark hue of his figure against the darkened window, only increased the anger sought out within her soul.

This is what he wanted.

" What the hell are you talking about? It was not my choice to lose my parents!" she snapped, her eyes narrowed on his back, " And don't you dare start bringing up the absolute bullshit that you believe everything should be taken as your own fault. Because that's not real life anymore. This shit is not my fault - this is not my war and yet here we are fighting the rich man's war as the young die upon the field. Real life sucks and real life is something you have to accept, Theodore!"

Her eyes widened almost the moment she had said his real name.

Agent Mortem's head turned at the sound and the two watched each other.

They were the same - Natia refused Natia anymore, she was simply Agent Fidel, a born and bred killer on the loose - Agent Mortem was the same. But Natia was determined that Natia would become her title again, Agent Mortem seemed to never want to have to use his name again.

Theodore Lentz was his name and he refused the thing that held him closest to home. He was truly gone.

" Get out."

" Gladly."

Yet Natia returned a week later, and Agent Mortem acted like nothing had happened.

A few months later, his game was over, his control on her was unleashed. And she was on her own. And now, his control on her was tethered. Natia refused to know his game was the only one to play. There were far safer ones than that of no trust. Because in war, you needed trust. Some sort of trust. An ounce of it, even.

It might be your only chance at survival.

_**Tongelre, Eindhoven, Holland** _

_**September 18th, 1944** _

_**0845** _

_**49 days since the Uprising** _

Natia was quite literally a flaming ball of anger by the time she had pushed through a majority of the foxholes that lay out in the early morning sun. There was a group who had decide to spring up a quite annoying joyous tune, their thick American accents ringing out loud and clear along the day-break, and it made Natia's head pound as she passed them, the radio becoming heavier and heavier upon her back. She was pissed, she was tired and exhausted and she missed home. Too many things had happened and it wasn't even 1000.

An Agent among a group of American men - she'd never belong - but it was her only choice to get home above anything. To get home. To her family. To her people. And to fight yet again for her great nation. Trust had flamed and burned in moments when Natia had stood in front of leadership - but she didn't trust them and they didn't trust her. She didn't expect trust to ever bridge the gap between them.

A lone wolf and the alphas.

" Hey, Fidel!" a voice suddenly called and she froze. She recognized that voice, she knew that voice. She had heard it under the cover of a Dutch home yesterday with George Luz.

It was Sergeant Guarnere - the asshole from the previous day who thought a good enough hello was simply a cold glare. She had no room to talk though. Natia slowly looked up from her position under the sun and glanced over to see it was Sergeant Guarnere, but he was not alone. He was accompanied by someone - the eyes seemed vaguely familiar. She remembered, the man from last night, Sergeant Toye. Joe Toye.

Natia sighed to herself, clearing her throat, tilting the helmet a bit lower above her eyes as she did so. She didn't want to talk - Captain Winters she knew was just doing his duty, but Natia and leadership and the blissful idea of following orders never quite agreed upon each other and well, having to escort herself over to the NCOs when her cheeks were red from frustrations and sweat trickled like tears - it was not her finest moment.

Everyone had a role to play in this war.

" Was gonna stop by last night, but figured ole Joe here was better. Especially from our little greeting yesterday. Quite the angel I see." Sergeant Guarnere called out to her as she approached, her footsteps cautious, gaze even more narrowed, and eyes bouncing between both sets of brown ones that looked down upon her as she approached.

What had changed?

What's with the pleasantries of his voice?

Natia narrowed her gaze on Sergeant Guarnere, watching him approach - why did he walk more relaxed, like they were comrades? She wanted nothing to do with him - neither of them. Their darkening brown eyes only encapsulated the look of the Agent with the cane and the near black eyes. She couldn't help that he reigned over her in her darkest moments when all she had to look to was the one who had given her hope in the dark.

He lived in their eyes too.

" I didn't need my sleep anyways." she called back to him as she came under their persistent gazes, forcing a smile on her face as she came to a stop in front of them, " Sir." Sarcastic and in a bad mood, not a good combination.

" Yeah, you look like you're having fun." Natia attuned to Sergeant Guarnere's comment with a sarcastic smirk.

" What do you want?" she said, crossing her arms. Her eyes flitted between the two NCOs, awaiting an answer from the two of them.

" Just checking in," Sergeant Guarnere said, " wasn't exactly the most pleasant yesterday, I'll give you that. Figured I'd get my act together, if you know what I mean. You have such a...sunny disposition." Oh, sarcasm. New level to Sergeant Guarnere unlocked.....great.

" Well it was nice of you." Natia said bitterly and Sergeant Guarnere watched her.

" You wake up on the wrong side of the bed or something?" Sergeant Guarnere said with a small snicker. He was trying - clearly. But the sarcasm mixed with the disregard for yesterday's interaction was evident. Yet it remained clear as day in Natia's mind. She didn't just forget those sort of things. Natia glared at him, watching as Sergeant Toye glanced towards Sergeant Guarnere almost as if he were tired of his bullshit too.

" To George's snoring more like it," she answered coldly. Natia watched Sergeant Guarnere, eyes narrowing as he seemed to smirk to himself. Her jaw clenched.

" Look, if you're here to bust my ass for something get it over with. But I have more important matters than listening to you and your mouth." she said taking a step closer. She knew it sounded angry and bitter and cold. These people were willing to add her reckless ass to the group and all she was being was rude. Yet yesterday did not go unforgiven by her and her impulsive attitude and her emotions were quickly taking the front lines. The two Sergeants took uneasy glances to one another, glancing back towards the Agent who stood at their feet.

" You ever feel down, now, just ask this guy to sing, I'm sure he's got a few songs already lined up." Sergeant Guarnere said, placing a hand on Sergeant Toye's shoulder. Natia cast her gaze up to Sergeant Toye who was glaring at Sergeant Guarnere, jaw-clenched. Sarcasm - nice. He sang?

Her heart lodged in her throat briefly as she thought for the first time since the Uprising had shattered her core, of the piano back home, her mother singing a tune as her father gently played the piano in the background as Ryzshard, the little child he was, danced around with Klimeck, dress flowing at her ankles, giggles echoing from where Natia sat with Benji, petting his little head.

Where had that gone?

" Shut up, Bill." muttered Sergeant Toye and Natia nodded. Sergeant Toye looked directly at Natia for the first time and her eyes turned icy under the sun.

" I ain't gonna sing." he said and Natia watched him, as his eyes changed, seemingly sizing her up as her gaze infiltrated his own.

" Dually noted," she said with a nod, holding his gaze for a brief moment, smirking the slightest bit - she wouldn't dare mention she, herself, was musically inclined anyway to these men," and if you happen to see him, tell the guy who bumped into me that I didn't appreciate the word duel we had yesterday." Her gaze was narrowed and both Sergeant Toye and Sergeant Guarnere glanced at each other.

" What the fuck you talking about?" Sergeant Toye asked her and Natia's gaze narrowed.

" Well, you two are both NCOs, I suggest you just ask your men. One of them bumped right into me and lost his entire mind." she said, crossing her arms, " It was quite the greeting." Sergeant Guarnere and Sergeant Toye were both quiet watching the woman, cold and bitter as she was - she had a point. Yet, she hadn't tried to fix the problem - her way of fixing the problem was throwing the middle finger up.

" Not quite the right greeting for a diplomat like you, huh?" Sergeant Guarnere said almost jokingly, but Natia saw the slight build up of evident rising anger in his eyes, but Natia just vaguely rolled her eyes.

" I'm not a diplomat. I'm just trying to get home, alright? So, if you would excuse me, I have to get back to George, but if you could find that asshole, it'd be greatly appreciated." Her sarcastic smile was enough to blast through a solid concrete door, as she nodded and then turned, huffing as she walked away, feeling the presence of their burning gazes set aflame upon her back.

" Good going there, Bill." muttered Sergeant Toye, as he removed his helmet and ran a hand over his hair, before placing it back on.

" What? I was just joking." Sergeant Guarnere complained turning to look at Sergeant Toye, " If she's gonna be with a bunch of Americans, she's gonna have to know how we run here." Sergeant Toye rolled his eyes.

" Well it seems that's the least of her worries." Sergeant Toye said as the two started walking away again, ODs rustling in the light wind as their boots softly crunched against the green grass underneath their feet.

" Yeah, yeah whatever."

" You say that and you know she could probably drop-kick yah," Sergeant Toye told him and Sergeant Guarnere glared.

" Shut up."

Natia moved back over towards where the hay bail was, briefly running into a red head who accidentally bumped into her and started profusely apologizing to her, setting her straight, stepping back a bit, watching her hesitantly, cheeks bright red, as Natia looked back at him. He had said his name was Babe, but then some man in a hole jokingly called him Edward. His face had only flushed more. Poor guy.

" Ah there she is!" George called as she approached and Natia only let out a frustrated huff in response to him, " How's my favorite little radio worker?"

If there was anything she was most thankful for in this moment, it had to be George Luz, because it seemed he'd more or less taken the Captain's order to heart more than expected and....cared.

" Frustrated." she said, heaving the radio off her shoulder as she did so, and collapsing beside him in the hay, cheeks red from evident frustration, sweat covering her face and hair falling out from the bun it was up in under the helmet.

" You gotta be more specific there, Flip, t-"

" Let's not finish that sentence, Luz." she said looking over at him as George sat back letting out a joyful chuckle.

" I just wanted to see your reaction." he said like it was the funniest thing after, " It was pretty funny." Natia smirked, rolling her eyes with a shake of her head. She watched George out of her peripheral - why was he like this?

Was it because of Captain Winters' order - to be nice to the poor, numb and traumatized girl, to pity the fuck out of her and then never speak to her again? Why was he simply like this? Natia wouldn't ask him though, it felt nice that they focused on the war instead of their differences for a moment.

" Can I ask you something?" Natia said looking towards him, as George brought his canteen to his lips. He gave a nod.

" Your NCOs." Natia said, looking over at George in the golden hues of the morning, as the wind ruffled his hair, " They're rather...."

" Aw don't worry about them, they're just trying to be friendly I promise." George said, " I mean sure Bill and Joe, and sometimes Johnny or Chuck, even Tab had the qualities of asshole material, but they're still great guys. And they care, they may not show it, but they do. Seeing people die out there in Normandy, I don't think many people expected it. They're protective, I'll give 'em that." Natia sighed to herself and glanced at her hands.

Agent Mortem had preached that trust in war meant Death. For Death had never agreed upon those terms with War in the beginning of this all, but War figured not every mortal would ever follow his rules, for they met Death faster than they should in the end. Natia was beginning to think Agent Mortem's teachings were complete and utter rubbish in war, a bunch of absolute bullshit, ideologies that had horrible outcomes and affected her the worst.

Because right now, Natia wanted nothing more than to trust these men, even if they were American, if they were in fact apart of the country who had done nothing for her country - despite it all, you needed trust in war, more than anything. Natia looked over at George, watching his soft, brown eyes watch her own.

" There's more to that 'escaping Nazis' story isn't there." George said as he watched her in the sunlight. Natia watched him, her gaze hardening before looking away, back at her hands, shaking her head, as she gulped.

" It's a long story," she said, frowning slightly, " it's not worth it."

" Why?" George asked her. Natia glanced towards him, watching his eyes for a moment, before looking away again, looking down at her eyes.

" It's sad." she told him. He was too joyful, too happy, too much of a good person to bear the horrifying stories of her past 5 years - why she was even here, all of it.

" Not every story's a happy story, Flip." George said quietly to her. Natia slowly looked up towards him and smiled slightly, a grin itching at the corner of her lips. Even though they had just met, George was unlike the others it seemed - no tense gazes, uneasy presences, or questioning looks. For even through his confused, first-hand gaze, he hadn't been questioning like the others. And sometimes that's all it was, especially in war - to just not question things for what they were.

Natia softly reached up and pushed a strand of hair behind her ear, biting back her lip, as beads of sweat formed along her forehead in the warm sunlight. She didn't want to have to make another person pity her miserable life when she was already holding so much pain back, blocking it up behind the icy walls that bordered her entire heart.

For their souls were the same, Zdzich and George and it seemed they always had. She imagined if Zdzich were looking down right now upon her sitting with someone who was his carbon-copy. She could see him smiling.

" You just...reminded me of someone, that's all." she said with a slight forced smile. George smiled gently.

" Was this person as handsome as me?" he asked her, not failing to strike a bit of a pose and Natia couldn't help but lightly laugh, a real genuine laugh.

" Don't get ahead of yourself, George Luz." she said with a slight chuckle, as George snickered to himself.

" Why? It's gotta be the hair right?" George said, running a hand through it, making Natia grin even more, sucking down the possible slight tears that threatened her vision.

" Asshole." she said, scratching the corner of her eye, to rid herself from the tear that squeezed out. And George....George chuckled, a wholehearted chuckle.

People were never really gone.

As the NCOs continued doing rounds, George had begun showing Natia the ropes of the American radio or what he liked to call it, 'this piece of shit'. 'This piece of shit' had a better ring to it anyway. Natia sat by his side, as he went over a majority of the calls they made, to CP, to different platoons and their Lieutenants, back even to HQ, the phrases they used - it all seemed very similar to what Zofia had taught her. And Natia picked up on it pretty quickly, as George ran a few mock ups with her, she got the hang of it, it felt to her. She still couldn't give in though, to all of it - why would he be so nice? So kind? Her only thought remained on the fact they held a sense of maturity enough to focus on the war now.

6 months ago - she might've been in a different situation if she had met them then.

" Hey," a voice said and the two looked up to see it was Lip, weapon slung over his shoulder, helmet swinging on his head.

" Hey, Lip." George said, his face lighting up as he did so, making Lip grin.

" We're moving out, loading up on some of those tanks that managed to push through, I suggest you find yourself a spot before they fill up." Lip explained.

" Are we moving towards Nuenen?" Natia asked Lip, her voice steady, eyes testing almost.

" That we are." Lip answered and Natia had to hold back the shuttering fear that radiated against her and nodded, " Get moving you two." Then Lip was off as George turned to look towards her.

" C'mon, Flip." he said, pushing himself to his feet as he did so and Natia followed, glancing over at George slightly, as he pulled the radio up onto his back by himself, situating it comfortably before grabbing his helmet and weapon. Natia slowly jumped her radio up onto her own back, struggling a bit when the strap caught the collar of her uniform. She gave it a few yanks as George watched her struggle a bit.

" Hey, hey, come here, these things always catch," George said as he approached her and gently tugged on her collar.

" I'm fine," Natia said, reaching up to gently remove George's hand and to do it herself. George watched as she gave it a tough little yank and the collar popped free out.

" See?" she said and George had to chuckle at her as he reached down to pick up her helmet and loop it upon her head like Lip had done the other day so gently.

" Yeah, yeah I see," George said as Natia shifted the radio a bit on her back with a tiny grin.

The two moved away from the hay bail, walking side by side, blending together with their short statures, their weapons, the helmets on their heads and their glowing brown eyes. And well of course the radios slung on their backs.

Natia's eyes narrowed at the sight of the tanks in front of them - she knew where they were leading, and they were leading to Nuenen, to their death. Upon arrival at the vast metal tanks, Natia cast her gaze towards George who watched her with an encouraging grin.

Natia grasped the sides and slowly pulled herself up, possibly surprising a few of the men around her, radio and all attached to her back. But then she let herself settle down onto the lower top portion of the tank and let out a sigh of relief as she did so, George cramming in right beside her, with a boyish smirk upon his lips from underneath the darkened rim of his helmet.

" Jesus fucking Christ," George said as another body shoved in beside him, causing the two radiomen to look towards the body.

" What? Not happy to see my face?" Johnny muttered as he situated himself. Natia snickered. The bickering wasn't much different from back at Headquarters - Ryzshard would mention something that got Felicjan going and Cezar's comments weren't much better off. It was quite the cycle where eventually Zofia and Angelika were among the mix. But it was always entertaining - Natia missed that.

" You'll get used to these first platoons loons." a voice said and Natia looked up, squinting from the glaring sun in her eyes at the voice, " Denver Randleman, but you can call me Bull, it's what the fellas call me."

" Bull." Natia tested on her lips and she saw the man smile a bit with a nod.

" Figured I'd introduce myself," Bull said to her.

" Bull's one of the NCOs," Johnny said leaning forward, " like myself, but he doesn't lose his temper as much as I do."

" Yeah, right." another man said getting on, a grouchy man following, " Last time I ever decide to open a book and read past midnight."

" You ever heard of sleep, Web?" the grouchy man behind him complained, " I'm sure it was a valid reason, let's be honest." 'Web' sighed to himself as Bull snickered.

" Just get your ass up there, Cobb." Bull said as Natia looked up towards where Web and Cobb were pulling themselves up towards with a slight smirk on her lips, figuring to test the waters a bit.

" What do you read?" she offered aloud, as a few heads turned towards her general proximity. The man, Web, stopped in his tracks and cast his eyes upon her, studying her quizzically as he did so, grip on the top of the tank releasing slightly.

" Who's asking?" he asked her, a slight smile poking up on his lips, his crystalized eyes watching her murky ones. Natia smirked.

" I am."

" She's that Agent." Cobb muttered from beside Web who watched her hesitantly.

" Literature." Web said, offering her the bone.

" I'm assuming you have favorites." she said, " You seem like the type." George chuckled from beside her as Johnny snickered.

" Well, I do-"

" As a Harvard nerd, he's morally obligated." Cobb said with a 'hmph' before moving past him and sitting farther up. Web just chuckled shaking his head.

" Harvard..." Natia said - she'd heard of the school institution before when Agent Mortem had gone off ranting about his time in the States and how he'd be heckled for the bad leg and the old cane that followed him anxiously. Deemed different.

" You seem quite modest for one of them." Natia said, " But I don't blame you." The group of men watched the woman sit with the helmet atop her head, looking like almost like a young child, yet withholding the anger of 5 years of war and pain.

" Take it as a compliment, Web and move on. Don't stand there gaping like a fish." Johnny muttered, as he let his eyes close briefly with a small sigh. Bull chuckled, as he hefted himself above on top of the tank.

Natia hadn't expected to like being amongst the mass of first platoon, nor a group of American men. But it was the significant realization that the only way she could get home was with these men. She'd done it before, in 1942 when Private Wojtek had been with her amongst the mass of men. But this time, she refused to let herself shut her mouth in front of them and be overrun by their scornful voices, their lingering gazes and obnoxious jeers. She had changed far more than she would've ever hoped, she knew how to work the crowd, and she could dissect each one to the bone.

For these American boys did not scare her in the slightest. 2nd and 3rd platoon on the other hand were a different matter, for the men amongst those groups seemed less inclined to hold a conversation, rather using words for angry motives, but, she gave them credit, they were trying at least. It made her laugh.

Of course, Carwood Lipton, seemed almost like an angel in the chaos - Sergeant Guarnere and Sergeant Toye were quite questionable, so was the red-head with the running mouth, and the happy trio that wouldn't shut their singing mouths at 0700.

Of course, the man who had nearly knocked her off her rocker yesterday was playing with the devil, remained at the lowest portion of her list, but she had yet to see his face in front of hers again. She considered it a good day. It would change by afternoon, she knew.

Captain Winters though remained stagnant in her mind.

The Map-Keeper, for she was glad he appreciated the sarcasm, still had a rather cumbersome presence. The sarcasm seemed nearly against her - she could figure that as much. The Lieutenants she hadn't seen for quite some time. Not that she was entirely surprised.

The medic, Doc Roe, well, his soul was kind from what she could tell, but Death's claws did pick at him a bit, but she understood. As a medic you experienced it most - they had lost far too many young nurses and doctors in their realm to the repression of Death.

Natia had faced Death too many times - she had seen it vividly in Doc Roe's own eyes and she felt for the man.

Death was eternal, even just his presence in another one, assimilating in the eyes, was like someone who was still clawing their way out for their life.

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H I S T O R I C A LN O T E S

No important historical notes for this chapter!! <3

A / N

HELLO HELLO HELLO!!! Second update of 2021 and here we are!! :) Definitely would have to say this was a fun chapter! We get chaos from Bill and Joe, some George, a bit of Lip, and even some 1st platoon chaos AHA!!! And most of all, Natia's worry for initially what will occur in Nuenen! What I can say is....she KNOWS it is a mistake, that this will not at all end well, she knows how the enemy fights more than anything and she knows this is not a good idea. BUT...of course the Americans don't know that and they won't listen to Natia, initially after she has given them nothing that makes them want to trust her. And it being less than 24 hours of trust between Easy and Natia....things won't be smooth per say. SOOOO......we'll have to see what occurs more than anything next week! I'm debating if it should be a two chapter update just because the chapters sort of split in the middle of a scene - so BE ON THE LOOKOUT NEXT WEEK!!! :) thank you all for the love and support - this story is an honor to write!! <3


	24. The Masking of Blood

"War must be, while we defend our lives against a destroyer who would devour all; but I do not love the bright sword for its sharpness, nor the arrow for its swiftness, nor the warrior for his glory. I love only that which they defend."

― J.R.R. Tolkien, The Two Towers

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_**Nuenen, Holland** _

_**September 18th, 1944** _

_**1100** _

_**49 days since the Uprising** _

Natia's mind was too alive for her as they rolled through the grassy plains and forestation of the outskirts of Eindhoven, Holland towards Nuenen. The men were alive with life, conversation spilling from their tongues, chuckles emitting and conversation of food following.

Natia wished to attempt to intermingle within them, but the fear for what she had guessed prior lingered in her mind. She knew the Nazis were there, in Nuenen, she knew they were hidden up amongst the corners of the buildings, undercover for the moment, watching an unsuspecting cartel of American paratroopers slowly draw closer in their wake.

The town seemed undisturbed and oddly quietly for a war-torn country, no one was outside, there wasn't a sound emerging from any portion of the town. It was all so quiet. The Americans didn't seem to care. But Natia's eyes caught on a sight that wasn't normal of a town in Holland.

A figure, with shoes looking like they were made from burlap wrapped around her feet, her pale skin dirtied, covered by a black article of clothing, and a tiny bundle wrapped up in her arms, head shaven.

The grip Natia had on her radio straps suddenly tightened, white knuckles making their comeback as Natia forced herself to look away, to look anywhere but the figure. Natia had seen the fresh blood, from the few open patches on her head, the small patches of hair still atop her head, and the sound asleep child in her arms. Ignoring it rather was a bliss she always returned to.

Because then she felt nothing upon seeing it.

Of course her mind was alive with thoughts, but the numbing always overpowered that.

George glanced towards Natia, who kept her head focused forward and eyes acutely narrowed, almost as if she were a statue. Her white knuckles did not go unnoticed by the American radioman, watching as the Agent seemed to try everything in her willpower to block out anything that could stimulate her in that moment and simply focus on the motions she took in front of her.

She couldn't bare to look.

Natia knew what could have happened to her, what possibly could've occurred. She'd seen it from 5 years in war and it was sickening to think the mere thought that it was nothing new, because it destroyed people. The enemy was purely sickening more than anything in this world.

It made her stomach roll as the road opened up ahead, allowing for the two tanks to position themselves side by side as one of the Lieutenants, one she had never formally met moved out in the front. She saw Bull sit forward a bit, gaze lingering on the confidence the Lieutenant seemed to hold as he moved forward.

Natia watched him though - it was a confidence of the naive. And Natia knew they were not alone.

You were never alone in war, whether it be your thoughts, your feelings, you pain, or even simply Death, you were never alone in war even if you thought you were.

Natia sat forward the slightest bit, eyebrows narrowed on the figure in front of her own, her hand reaching for her weapon on her shoulder - in case she had to fire a shot or two.

What was he doing?

" Hey, get a load of General Patton!" That had been what Hoobler had called out, she remembered the friendly smile he had offered to her. She wished she could've given one back.

General Patton was quite an ambitious term to use, she thought. Especially for someone like the man walking out in the open.

" What the hell's he doing?" Bull said, evidently aggravated with him in some way.

" Makes quite a target, don't he?" Hoobler said, as Natia glanced up and over to see Bull moving himself down a bit forward. But Natia's eyes were immediately back on the Lieutenant, the binoculars held up in his hands as he stood calmly it seemed. Her heart slowed - the calm before the storm.

" Lieutenant!" Bull suddenly called, and within a second of the Lieutenant turning around, a singular shot echoed out, the sound of the bullet, squelching into flesh enough for all to hear, the echo of the gun reverberating off into the sky. Calls for a sniper followed.

Natia didn't panic like the rest though, she'd seen this before, and she'd seen it time and time again - and she knew this would happen, she knew the Nazis weren't dumb, they weren't dumb enough to retreat back to Germany and celebrate with beer, they'd continue fighting like the rest of them.

Because they were their enemy.

They were all enemies.

And suddenly, the rolling of a tank's tracks appeared from the left - one of the replacements calling out was enough to signal that, as chaos erupted behind Natia. Men scrambling to remove themselves from the top of the tank, bodies brushing past her, and calls to men echoing out and following.

Natia watched the tank roll, the Panzer cruising forward faster and faster - she knew how to blow one up, for Cezar's sticky bombs had been the most useful source of diversion in Warsaw. The two of them had cleared about 5 out in one day back in late August. She supposed a few American grenades would do the same, allotted in the perfect position. The SOE had trained her well enough for that - and quite possibly so had Agent Mortem.

But she were just a pawn in their game..... a well-placed one.

" Clear the track!" someone yelled, suddenly and Natia was hurriedly bumped into as she slammed harshly and suddenly down into the ground as bodies continued to jump down from the tank. A slicing pain went through her hand and crimson emerged, quickly following. She grumbled to herself, staying low as people panicked, her eyes on the Panzer moving across the scene.

Get to the Panzer, and save a few lives in the process, easier said than done, but what's life without a little risk.

Natia, heavy radio sliding from sweat down her back and all, shot up like a bullet and diverted herself away from the chaotic pack of Easy Company men. They moved into the farther ditch, as Natia tumbled down the closer one, where no one remained. Her nose filled with the fresh scent of dirt as her bloodied hand stung with infection. She could hear yelling from the opposite bank as her eyes lit up again on the fast moving tank.

The firing from the British tank didn't do much besides miss the main objective. But the other British tank hit off the flank first, engulfing it in flames, sending black smoke billowing up into the sky.

Natia craned her neck as she watched it go, hearing the Americans and their yelling and calls continue passing through the airwaves. But she turned her focus back on the tank and watched Germans emerge, she watched the enemies emerge from the fire and her anger took hold. She pushed off from the grassy and dirt covered embankment and hurrying forward.

For her parents, for Zdzich, for Felicjan, for her people, for everyone the enemy has ever taken.

Each and every one.

The radio bounced harshly on her back, a bruise would follow she knew, but she'd get used to it. Carrying the weight of the world hardly seemed much different. She could hear the Americans firing their own shots out of pure instinct and anger towards the fleeing Germans, but Natia kept her gaze set, as she propelled herself up the small dike towards them, reaching down for the grenades attached around her waist.

Natia was quick to loop her hold around the grenades, in a show-off fashion, popped them loose and threw them right up and into the scene. A few explosions from the grenades followed. A smirk grew on her face, as she pushed up again, turning briefly as she saw Web take out the last few who crawled away.

Throwing up a thumbs up was enough to earn a smile from him it seemed and a quick nod. But as the company moved forward, deploying across the outskirts, her focus was on the remnants of the tank, simmering to a crisp. It was like the meat her mother used to cook.

Natia briefly shut her eyes at the thought of her mother, killed by the enemy right in front of her. These people had done that - they had not only killed her family but taken Natia from then.

Focus.

Natia approached the burning tank and her eyes easily found the access point at the top. Grasping the sides of slightly charred tank metal, she pushed herself up along the sides, careful to avoid any of the spitting flames and then let herself fall in through the top, the radio crushing her back as she let out a 'pfft', the interior smelling like a smokehouse. A bad smokehouse.

The clicking of a pistol wasn't what she had hoped to encounter either.

Tilting her head up, her eyes caught the blue amongst the rest, a deep blue that picked her form out easily. Well, of course. Natia sniffed as she looked at the pistol butt pointed at her head. Not like it was the first.

" You don't want to do that." Natia spoke in her thick German, playing it up a few notches just to watch him squirm, " To kill me and watch you live." The German watched her, hand refusing to move the pistol from her face.

" You are American." he spat, " You are the enemy." Well he wasn't entirely wrong.

" We are each other's enemies, I can assure you that. But you want this war to end just as much I do." Natia countered. It was like she were in Prague again, the Nazi watching her as she held the pistol to his face. She had killed him. This one didn't seem to have enough courage too, he looked like a child.

The tank continued to burn, parts falling off, bits and pieces turning to a deep black and the heat inside became more suffocating from sweat and smoke. He was bleeding, just around the eye, as it was nearly swollen shut, and his leg looked broken, twisted wrong it seemed.

" You don't want to kill me." Natia said as she slowly sat up, shifting a bit as she felt her own pistol on her leg.

" Yes! Yes I do!" he said, shifting a bit, as tears welled in his eyes.

But Natia saw the youthful expression on his face, taking him over piece by piece.

And in one swift motion, her hand was wrapped around the barrel, as she was sliding the weapon from his grasp, shaking her head, her calm eyes overpowering his frantic ones.

It was War's dutiful job overtaking the innocent.

" Give me my weapon!" the German suddenly yelled, lunging forward, slamming her and her radio back into the metal ground of the tank, his crippled body on top of her own as his hands clasped her own bloodied ones with the weapon.

Natia let out a grunt as blood formed along the cut on her cheek, the sweat from perspiration dripping down her cheeks, her palm pushing straight into his chin, causing his head to crack backwards.

" Get the fuck off of me!" she snapped, as she brought her feet up, pushing against his chest and launched him backwards to where he had previously sat.

The second he slammed into the metal, Natia was pointing the pistol at his face, and numbingly without second thought, shot the pistol, watching the bullet move through the skull in a flash. And in an instance he was dead. Her body dropped from near exhaustion, suffocation of smoke and debris filling her lungs, and the German pistol rolled from her hands.

" So much for fucking chivalry." she muttered, coughing a few times before looking up towards where the opening was. Great. She left the body behind as she looked around, searching for maybe a few maps, grenades, anything that she thought could be of use to the Allies. Her eyes found some in the corner, tiny scrolls rolled up, with coordinates littered in red ink. Perfect. The maps were put into the front pocket, and shoved away.

Reaching up, she used whatever strength she could muster and pulled herself and the radio up and out of the hole into fresh air as smoke billowed out from the hole along with her. Her hand hurt the most, she could feel a heart pulse almost inside of it, as blood and dirt and other such things covered it. There was a bigger issue than her hand or the blood on her cheek.

Natia hurriedly jumped down from the massive tank, before shoving the rim of the helmet up from her eyes to get a view on the town. She could see the men moving across it. Shit.

George was nowhere in her line of sight but Johnny was as well as Sergeant Guarnere. The tank behind her was only growing more up into flames. Breaking out into a sprint, she willed her chances, moving through the masses of buildings and fires, leaving the dead soldier behind, running into the fray.

Natia spotted Johnny as well as different members of 1st and 2nd, positioned in what looked to be the balcony of a restaurant, crouched behind the wooden barriers around the outside.

Tables and chairs were knocked over when Natia approached, sliding past a majority of the men, the radio bouncing more and more along her back and with a grunt she slid in beside Johnny, the radio crashing into the ground, helmet flying off her head and weapon clattering to the ground. Johnny's eyes met hers almost immediately.

" Where the fuck you been?" Johnny asked her, crouching down below the wooden wall, eyes searching her own for an answer. A reckless smirk didn't fail to appear on her lips, as she shoved her helmet on her head.

" You didn't think I'd leave a tank like that in the open without some looting now would ya?" she said and Johnny raised a brow.

" You what?" a voice asked and Natia glanced over to see the red-head from before, who wouldn't quite his apologizing.

" Looting. Ever heard of it?" she called as the red-head's eyes widened.

" Uh, yeah, I guess."

" Try it some time." And with that, her gaze was peaking over the ledge, eyes narrowed forward. Johnny saw what she saw.

" Oh, shit." she murmured, as Johnny poked his head further above. They saw the same thing.

" Tiger." he murmured as Natia crouched back below and was quick to pull the radio phone back up to her ear.

" Easy red," she murmured into the radio, keeping her eye on Johnny who peaked up above the wooden railing again, eyes narrowed, as sweat dripped past his eyes. Natia, awaiting George's voice, could hear the tanks approaching from the south end of the road and she could sense that Johnny could too.

" Shit!" Johnny hissed as Natia sat, eyes narrowed.

" Easy red," she called again.

" Heffron, on me." The red-head followed after Johnny out of the wooden, balcony area, and towards the tank. Natia watched them go before pushing the radio to her ear again.

" Easy red." she said harshly this time, willing for an answer.

" Easy six, over." a voice came back and a sigh of relief seemed to escape Natia at the sound of George's voice coming through the radio.

" Tiger, North side, over." Natia answered back.

" Tiger?" came George's slightly confused response - that's right. He was probably back further, holed up near a wall.

" The British do not see it yet, but it's there, over." she said again, before clicking off the radio. Anymore and she could draw attention. And then she heard the tanks reeve up again and Natia's head snapped towards them in an instance.

" What the-" Her eyes caught on Heffron and Johnny running back and the tanks continuing to move forward.

What was going on? Why were they still moving?

And suddenly her eyes were on the Tiger again, watching it's head slowly turn, moving right towards the spot in which the British tanks would soon emerge. And that's when Johnny reappeared and landed down right beside her again as she met his gaze. The two turned and looked and in an instance a shot was shot forward, penetrating the tank behind the leader, sending smoke and debris into the air.

Natia slowly shut her eyes in anguish. She had warned them, just this morning, and here they were. She had seen it before, she was no stranger to it all, to the Nazis, to the Allies. Her eyes reopened as the Tiger rolled forward and an anger filled her system. Her eyes flared as her angry, snappy head turned to face the British tank commander.

" What the hell are you doing!" she suddenly yelled, overtaken by the anger that flooded her veins, the absolute anguish that followed her - she had seen far too many situations that had gotten her group put into life or death, this shouldn't be one of them. They could stop this, they had time to change this.

" You're walking right into a-"

" Fidel!" called Johnny, pulling her right back down and against the wooden railing, pushing her back up against the structure, as they breathed heavy watching one another, sweat pouring down their faces.

" You're going to get us killed." he said, his voice low and firm in its delivering to her. Natia watched him and gritted her teeth.

" Better killed than living in this nightmare." she mustered out, rather emotionally and impulsively without thought, as Johnny watched her. And with that, Natia pushed herself up, and scrambled from the sight. It was too loud, it was all too loud. Natia pushed back and crammed herself away in the far corner, pulling the radio phone up to her ear and grimacing from the hit the tank took.

" Easy red," she called through, " Easy red!"

" Easy six, you're clear, over!"

" We have to fall back, armor and infantry, we're covered." she yelled through the radio watching as another building exploded and even more debris filtered into the air, " Last time I ride a fucking tank." George's radio was quick to shut off and Natia grimaced turning her gaze back to where Johnny was.

Pushing up from her corner, her hand felt a slice of pain, as the encrusted wound was opened yet again. Natia squeezed her eyes shut and sucked in a shuttering breath as she pushed up from the wall.

Agent Mortem had taught her how to control her emotions in battle, to conceal all feeling and remain as ruthless and as humble as you were in your human nature.

It was what had made her dangerous, far more dangerous than Agent Mortem had even predicted on her part.

The outcomes he brought forth had only worsened her and it was his fault. Now they both had to live with it.

And these American boys were defrosting the cruel outcomes that Agent Mortem had hoped to unleash.

She had numbed herself in Warsaw - Holland was the sweltering heat baring it's ugly claw on it all.

" Bull!!" Johnny suddenly yelled, his cry for his comrade echoing across the town as another explosion ripped off to the right. Natia's gaze hardened as a machine gun open fired on them from the top of the building.

" Fall back! Fall back!" Johnny suddenly yelled just as Natia had pulled her submachine from her shoulder - she knew ammo would run out for it soon enough and she'd have to carry an American weapon in her own hands, she hoped that wouldn't happen anytime soon. The moment Natia brought her weapon up, Johnny was in her face.

" Fall back, Fidel!" Johnny yelled gripping her Olive Drab and yanking her forward, " Fall back, you're gonna get it!"

" I will not fall back until they are dead!" she snapped, shoving him off her with a quick jab of her elbow and bringing up her weapon yet again. She heard Johnny grunt and suddenly she was yanked right out of the balcony, being shoved about with other soldiers. And all the sudden, an explosion went off behind them in the restaurant balcony, causing Natia to stumble from force into the body of the man in front of her. But she pushed herself up again and took up a pace beside Johnny.

" Is every battle you engage in quite like this?" she said, just a tad bit sarcastically and Johnny grumbled, shots echoing off like fireworks behind them in fiery explosions.

" Why? You expecting something better!" Johnny muttered back and Natia grunted, pushing herself further forward.

Slamming against a wall, she turned to see a mass of German infantry running over the dike towards them, more and more following. Tanks were appearing, track rolling upon the Earth and they drew closer and closer. It was just like every battle before.

Natia knew they hadn't retreated and left a country like Holland wide open - only an idiot would push against that.

And finally Natia couldn't do anything but push up from the solid brick wall and run, radio slamming her back, blood rushing in her ears, shots flying past her head every which way, and the mantra of combat boots on the ground. She felt she would never stop running from her enemy in a war such as this.

No one was safe - you were someone's enemy and they were yours - you were all enemies.

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H I S T O R I C A L N O T E S

> The Americans were under British command during Operation Market-Garden, so really, they were under a command who, in some cases, not all, came in contact with larger forces than anticipated. (ie British 1st at Arnhem)

With Natia in this case, she has known war for 5 years, a number she seems to constantly repeat over and over again, and she already anticipates what the Germans really have planned after leaving Eindhoven as such for the Americans to come through. It's a difficult situation between Natia and the American counterparts to say the least...

A / N

_HELLO!!!! Double Update Day here we are!!! SO SO HYPE TRULY!!! :D This chapter really flows quite nicely into the next, so I'll let you discover that for yourself after this chapters events. Let's just say...things get quite tense. Thanks for reading and I hope you enjoy the next chapter!!! (there will be a longer A/N's at the end of the next chapter!)_


	25. A Helmet’s Shadow

"The enemy is anybody who's going to get you killed, no matter which side he is on."

― Joseph Heller, Catch-22

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_**Nuenen, Holland** _

_**September 18th, 1944** _

_**1300** _

_**49 days since the Uprising** _

Natia continued her run until she reached the outskirts of the town, hopping down into one of the retreating dikes, where plenty of other soldiers were quickly retreating.

Lieutenant Compton was in front of her, she could tell by his height - it was the little things at this point she could pick up on. But suddenly, a sound like something ripping through uniform and flesh echoed and Natia watched Lieutenant Compton fall to the ground with a painful groan, collapsing into a figure in front of him. Another red-head, the one who was singing with his two buddies that morning and properly annoying the hell out of her.

" Medic!" he called, his voice still that of a very boyish tone as he pulled his helmet onto his head. Another man came running forward, the other one who had sat with the red head that very morning, as Natia grunted and hurriedly crawled forward, coming upon the wounded Lieutenant - it had gone through the butt, she could tell. Position and everything.

" Where you are hit, Lieutenant?" Natia called as she collapsed at his side, hands immediately searching for where the bullet had entered. The two men, beside the wounded Lieutenant, looked towards her for a moment, almost not registering what they were hearing or who they were seeing. But Natia didn't have time for that as she reached down to her pocket and pulled the only bandage she knew she could muster from her uniform and rightfully pressed it onto his butt as Lieutenant Compton barely even register it, looking at his shaking, blood-covered hand.

In almost an instance, Doc Roe was leaping in beside her and taking over as he pressed his hands quickly overtop of her own to apply even more pressure.

" Hey, Doc." Lieutenant Compton said, his voice trembling.

" Lieutenant." Doc Roe quickly responded, as he gave a quick nod to Natia as she pulled back, grimacing at the stinging of her hand yet again, before glancing towards the red-head who watched her, almost gently, with a youthful expression. He nodded to her briefly amidst the chaos and Natia softly nodded back.

" It's gone right through, Buck. Side to side, both cheeks." Doc Roe said as a whistle echoed overhead and Natia simply shut her eyes as it went off before reopening.

" Hey, how'd you know how to do that!" the other man asked, the friend of the red-head, briefly looking away from his position with his rifle towards her.

" War teaches you that!" she called back over the firefight, causing his eyes to widen as he turned back to his rifle yet again. Just then debris, of dirt and grass littered them like rain, and Natia crouched against the embankment of dirt for a brief moment before pushing her helmet yet again out of her eyes.

" Malarkey, get him out of here, go!" Lieutenant Compton called to the red-head, Malarkey, crouched over his face. Didn't Malarkey mean bullshit? That was for a different time, clearly.

" What?!" Malarkey said, panting a bit as suddenly Natia met his eyes, in an almost equal surprise. She was ready to haul him up on her back herself. She liked Lieutenant Compton, she wasn't ready to let him die out here alone.

" Just-!" at the instance, Doc Roe, applying even more pressure on the wound, caused him to groan, " leave me here for the Germans."

 _No_.

No, no, _**no**_. Natia was not seeing this again, she was not witnessing another left behind for the Germans to ravish. Not again. That had been far too much for her liking.

" What?! Are you nuts?" Malarkey argued back as Natia glanced back, her eyes spotting the town yet again. A town was useful for many things - a door on a building was one of them.

" We'll carry you." Doc Roe said as he wrapped another bandage around the butt.

" Are you kiddin' me? I weigh more than both of you two guys combined." his voice was of a pure struggle and anguish and pain. Natia watched Malarkey, building this silent determination up in his features and a confidence rose in her.

" Come on," Malarkey said as he pushed up from the dirt.

" I'll join you." Natia said hurriedly, joining him as he stood, the third man, following - it was for a brief moment that the two men looked down upon the woman. But then a wave of confidence resided over her being.

" Come on!" she called and then turned, radio and all and took off running straight back towards the battle the ensued in chaos behind them. It was easy for the 3 of them to kick down one of the larger doors, wood ripping from wood as it fell inside the home. The 3 stood there, watching as it fell, when suddenly a voice yelled from behind them - Sergeant Guarnere.

" What the hell are you doing?!" he had called to them.

" Help us!" the man yelled, racing forward, as Natia shouldered her weapon and jumped inside the darkened building towards the top of the door.

" Agent Fidel?!" Sergeant Guarnere called out as they finally moved the door outside of the home and into the light again.

" At your service." she called, " Come on, don't just stand there." Her call was the one that got them moved, the 4 of them pulling the door, dragging it with stamina through the grass and the rocks and the outskirts of the town to where Lieutenant Compton was with Doc Roe.

" Lieutenant!" Natia called, the first to leave the door there and move towards Lieutenant Compton, " Wrap your arm over my shoulder, we'll move you faster." Lieutenant Compton watched her.

" I'm twice the size of you, I'll crush you." he said and Natia smirked a bit.

" The weight of the world does much more." she said, " Come on." Sergeant Guarnere, Malarkey and the third man looked amongst one another briefly as Lieutenant Compton reached up, with help from Doc Roe, in grunts of pain to wrap an arm over her shoulder. Natia grimaced but pushed with what strength she had and held him up. Doc Roe assisted her in getting Lieutenant Compton up and over the embankment and onto the wooden door that acted like it were a stretcher.

The second Lieutenant Compton was on the stretcher, Natia looked up as sweat dribbled down her forehead and looked towards the 4 paratroopers.

" We got this Doc," Natia called to him, " other people need you, we can take care of this." Doc Roe watched her, but then nodded to the group and took off. Natia's gaze turned on the other 3.

" Come on!" she said and at her order, the group began hauling the door with Lieutenant Compton on it straight back towards the truck and tank line up that remained. Natia was used to injury and wounds that many of the resistance fighters succumbed to back in Warsaw - this was nothing entirely new. It seemed for the Americans, even though treated as veterans, were still not completely tuned into it all - or it was the shock factor that ran rampant instead.

Either way, Natia refused to leave Lieutenant Compton - she might be hesitant to trust a group of Americans such as these, but they were also human. And humans didn't leave another behind. There was a reason they were a company.

Natia's stamina held up better than the other 3 by the time they reached the truck - she was sweating, practically everywhere, her injured hand with dried blood, speckles of chipped wood, dirt and grass coating it was throbbing, the cut under her cheek had crusted with sweat and stung quite a bit, and her body was nearing it's collapse by this point. But in war, even if she felt all this, she never gave up. In the eyes of the enemy, she refused to let them see her weakness. They didn't deserve that sort of power in war.

" Alright, lift him!" Natia called, the second they got to the truck bed where Doc Roe already was, ready to lift Lieutenant Compton with the door up into the belly. The second they got him up, Malarkey and the other guy - she had spotted the name above the breast pocket earlier - Muck it had read, climbed up after him. Malarkey's hand stretched out for her but she shook her head.

" I'll be back!" she said, but a hand on her elbow pulled her back and she met the eyes of Sergeant Guarnere.

" No, you're not." he said and she was about to protest when the sharp tug from Sergeant Guarnere yanked her back. Glancing over her shoulder, she watched Nuenen remain up in flames and her heart sped up a bit. Natia then turned and looked back at Sergeant Guarnere and promptly ripped her arm from his grasp.

" I'll be back." she said firmer this time, but Sergeant Guarnere stared her down, before taking her again by the arm and pulling her towards the last transport.

" I have to go back-"

" I am not allowing you to go back, Fidel. Not now, not ever. Get in the truck." Sergeant Guarnere said. Natia stared him down, anger filling her system as she watched him.

" Sergeant Guarnere-"

" This is not up for fucking discussion, Agent Fidel, now get in the damn truck." Sergeant Guarnere snapped, his gaze turning cold.

" Fine." she said, ignoring Web's hand that he offered her or the looks a few others gave her.

Pulling the weight of herself and the radio into the truck she harshly sat down in the corner, gaze narrowed, as she stared angrily forward. Sergeant Guarnere watched her as he moved into the truck and she refused to look his way, even give him the satisfaction that there was a sliver of guilt inside her icy bones.

Johnny was sliding in beside her next, exhausted and out of breath. She could barely meet his eyes either after their own altercation. She was always prone to making everyone her enemy no matter what - what a curse.

" Where's the Bull?" Natia heard Sergeant Guarnere asked. Johnny's answer was numbing.

" Don't know." A completely breathless, exasperated release of air. Natia shut her eyes.

What a nightmare this country seemed to be in.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

" You tore this up real good."

" I didn't mean to." Natia didn't realize how gentle a medic's hands had the capability of being as he slowly wrapped the bandage around her pulsing hand, taking so much time and care into simply her hand. She'd never thought about her hand as needing as much care as Doc Roe seemed to take with it.

A medic took into account all the little things - she appreciated that.

" Just a cut, that top layer came off but luckily it was caught before full infection." Doc Roe explained as he gently clipped the bandage into place. Natia sat on the edge of the foxhole that George was currently working on digging out, watching Doc Roe reach into his pack and pull out another bandage.

" Just incase." Doc Roe said and she took it, letting her eyes trail over the packaging briefly before watching him again. She nodded, her throat straining a bit in thought.

" Try and get some rest you two." Doc Roe said before standing from his crouched position and hurrying off again to do his rounds, just like a handful of NCOs. Natia sighed to herself, looking down at the bandaged hand and then shoved the bandage away.

How could she have been as idiotic as that?

George heaved another heavy pile of dirt from the hole with a sigh before glancing towards her, staring angrily at the bandaged hand.

" What'd he ever do to you?" George said with a smirk, wiping some of the dirt and sweat from his features. Natia looked up at him with a tiny glare.

" Started bleeding that's what." she said and then angrily shoved her bandaged hand into her pocket. George chuckled a bit before hopping himself up in the dirt beside her and pulling out a cigarette.

" You always seem to have that handy don't you?" Natia said as George chuckled.

" What else would I be good for then?" he said, placing it upon his lip as he handed her one with a smirk. Natia with a slight forced grimace took the cigarette into her fingers and twirled it in her grasp a bit, deflated and far too exhausted she felt. When had she last felt this exhausted? Her eyes though were caught on the radio she had just previously set with code and the correct radio wave.

Additionally, to the American communication line that was rigged sat her Warsaw signal - it had worked from various locations before, it had to work again.

" Hey, you good?" Natia found George watching her and Natia sighed, looking away from the radio to look down angrily at her hands again.

" I should've gotten a signal by now." Natia said, her eyes drawing back on the radio again, biting back her lip as if her glare would make the signal magically appear. George watched the woman nervously start to pick a bit at her slightly chapped lips, eyes watching the radio, her knee shaking the slightest bit, almost like it was bouncing up and down from nerves, and the way she barely even let herself blink. Her eyes remained open and staring directly at the radio.

" Hey, Flip, how about you bed out for the night." George offered, as she slowly glanced his way.

" I need to be awake if they send a signal." she countered him watching as George's eyes watched her own, slightly confused. She had just wrecked havoc across Nuenen and now she wanted to do everything besides sleep.

" Plus, I picked the wrong bone with Sergeant Guarnere. I shouldn't have even bothered. The second he even approached me after yesterday I knew it was a mistake." Natia said, an annoyed grumble to herself to follow, before pushing herself to her feet," And if the officers had just listened to me..." Natia sighed as she brushed off the stiff clothing.

" Hey, where you going?" George said gently, almost worriedly, looking up at her in the darkness as she stood there, adjusting her helmet on her head as she did so, submachine safely adjusted onto her shoulder.

Natia stared forward, out across the vast amount of foxholes, biting the inside of her cheek a bit as she let her gaze linger on select individuals that moved in their huddled groups.

" I don't know." she answered, before turning and moving off, helmet tilted in her eyes, submachine safely swinging back and forth against her shoulder, boots silent upon the Earth. For she didn't make a sound. She never seemed to.

George watched her leave, body stiff, fist clenched, where he had seen the slight indents from previous occasions of the sort. It wasn't the first time white knuckles had accompanied her on her night wanders it seemed. His eyes wandered back to the radio and he quickly licked his lips as he watched it. His eyes saddened a bit. Looking away was all he could do.

Natia wandered through the foxholes, ignoring the pestering gazes lent her way, instead letting her eyes remain dull in appearance, lips in a thin line. She just had to filter out all of the American men, she just needed to be alone. And she was finding more often that all she wanted to do was just be alone.

Once she had reached the general outskirts of the foxholes, she moved up the small dike, glancing briefly towards where a few of the officers stood, their quiet and huddled group like an inner circle, whispering amongst one another softly. Natia couldn't help but sneer to herself and turn away from them.

But her eyes caught something else in her gaze. The sky was lit up by the wondrous colors of oranges, reds and yellows, scattered across the horizon. But she realized what lay scattered across the horizon was Eindhoven, lit up by those very colors and her heart seemed to catch in her throat.

Natia's eyes narrowed from underneath her helmet, as her tiny balled up fist tightened even more. The strap of her submachine was enough to keep her injured one at bay, but she could feel her nails digging into the skin that had felt it hundreds of times before.

Death watched from afar, the woman with the helmet covering her, making her blend more and more into the field of Americans that sat below the embankment to her right. Death could sense her growing agitation and anger, he had sensed it more than once before, but this time he was afraid it might implode.

There it was again, the clenching of the white knuckled fist and the squeezing shut of the brown eyes she had never been too fond of. Natia let out a shaky breath and watched the city burn, a city of light, engulfed in flames, being forced to the ground once and for all. She thought of Anouk and Jozef- she wondered if War had been just as gentle with them as he had with Zdzich.

But then Natia froze, her breath catching in her throat, as the grass to her right shifted, the feeling of another set of combat boots touching the Earth and moving closer to her side. Her hand slowly moved to the pistol she always had in her side - she never slept without it. Her eyes remained on the burning city, what the enemy had forced free people to succumb to - it seemed no one ever won war unless they were dead.

It seemed like it were to be the only form of liberation in a war as horrific as this.

Natia's hand slowly clasped around the pistol, as the hairs on the back of her neck stuck up in the air and goosebumps were sent over her entire body. In an instance, the pistol was out of its holster, pointed right towards the face that she had spun the barrel straight towards. Her eyes narrowed at the eyes she met on the opposite side.

The one who supposedly sang a tune, but refused it without question.

Sergeant Toye.

She recognized those eyes from earlier. But Sergeant Toye didn't seem to care what shade of color the eyes holding the pistol at him were unlike herself. His hands shot up in an instance and his own gaze narrowed.

" ' Ey, point that thing someplace else." he growled out, stepping back a bit as Natia narrowed her gaze further, her grip on the pistol only tightening further.

" Why the hell were you sneaking up on me?" she said bitterly - anyone that snuck up on her normally was killed. Sergeant Toye's gaze narrowed at her own.

" I wasn't sneaking up on you." he said coldly, " I'm an NCO alright? Ever heard of making sure someone's okay?"

" Yeah and they're dead now." she said and then slowly let her frozen position defrost a bit as she let the pistol drop. Sergeant Toye visibly let out a sigh of relief as Natia glared a bit, sliding the pistol back into its holster.

Then, ignoring the look Sergeant Toye gave her, she turned to look back out towards the burning town, taking up her normal guarded position, trying to do anything but give into Sergeant Toye's stares that shot like bullets into the side of her head.

" I'm fine." she told him, " I'm sure those replacements need your gracious care anyway, Sergeant Toye." Sergeant Toye watched her, as she said those words, refusing to meet his gaze. She was angry, she seemed inwardly upset and she seemed pissed, very clearly, at something that nobody could fix in that moment.

" Don't be taking this out on me now, Agent." Sergeant Toye scoffed, finally drawing his eyes from her towards the glowing city being amounted to nothing more than ash and flames. Natia turned her head a bit and glared slightly at him, her lips turning into an even thinner line. Sergeant Toye didn't budge.

" Then how about you go and tell Sergeant Guarnere that, see what he does. I'm sure he'll be so concerned." Her sarcasm was only growing worse and her aggravation was nearing the end of its rope. She was simply just annoyed.

" What's your problem?" Sergeant Toye said, his voice cold, " I'm just trying to make sure you're okay and all I've gotten was the biggest load of bullshit I've heard in weeks."

" Ah, in weeks. How big was the other load?"

" Oh, shut up." muttered Sergeant Toye, his gaze equally as annoyed. Natia's gaze hardened.

" Make me." Sergeant Toye glared. There was a glint in his eye. But he regained his composure, from under the helmet which shadowed his own eyes.

" You're too far from the group, and I know Winters won't be happy seeing you this far away." Sergeant Toye tried to tell her but she redirected her gaze forward.

" Alright, let him at it. He already is taking quite the distaste towards me, let it simmer for a bit." she said, meeting his eyes again. Joe watched her, the two helmeted soldiers, eyeing each other up like prey.

" We wouldn't even be in this situation if your officers had just listened to my word."

" You've given them nothing that makes them trust you." Sergeant Toye answered cooly back and Natia glanced at him, her eyes fixated upon him.

" And you've all given nothing but the same." she answered him, jaw clenched as her eyes turned upon the burning silhouette of the city on the horizon, aglow in the night of the war.

" You're just like them." Natia sneered out, a bit to her tone, in the slight chuckle in her throat, dry in her esophagus," And I don't expect you to trust me." Sergeant Toye turned to her stiffly.

" Is this a joke to you or something?" Sergeant Toye grumbled out and Natia looked towards him, the helmet swinging on her head, her gaze hardened over as she stared at him, clenching her jaw in anger.

" You don't know anything about me." she said, " You wouldn't know the first thing about what life was like where I come from - the atmosphere, the killings, the Nazis - all of it." Sergeant Toye watched her, his own anger building up, boiling and frothing inside his chest as he stood there. But he had to control himself - this woman had been in war far longer than any of these other guys, any of them. She'd been there since Day 1, he had to get that through his brain, he had to remind himself that. He didn't know the first thing to say to her though. He was afraid that whatever he would say would end up putting her off even more.

Natia watched Sergeant Toye, she really watched him, every aspect of his face, looking at her own, studying her, watching her from under that stupid helmet. And he watched her with an equal intensity, not failing to notice the way her eyes sunk in compared to the way her mouth remained in a permanent frown. But then she looked away.

" So please, don't ever ask me if this is a joke, any of this. It's the only life I can remember anymore." Her words struck something in Sergeant Toye rather drastically, because he could sense how painful it was to even say that. Sergeant Toye swallowed, and then glanced at her again, opening his mouth to speak as he did so.

" Just, leave me alone." she said, not even wanting to dare turning her head to look towards him, " Please." Her throat was closing up, her voice was straining, and she was afraid if she said another word she'd break right then and there in front of him, leaving her looking like the broken child back in Warsaw that she was. She was not that child anymore.

Leaving her like that broken young girl who cowered under Agent Mortem's powerful gaze. She was not that child anymore. Sergeant Toye slowly let his gaze lower to the ground, the rim of his helmet covering his eyes as he did so.

" I didn't mean-"

" Sergeant Toye, just please..." Natia turned on him, her eyes threatening to well with unwanted tears.

Tears she hadn't felt in ages. She had forced herself long ago that she wouldn't cry in front of another ever again, or let herself cry over Death. Death didn't want her crying over him either. It was pitiful.

But she hadn't grieved, for too many loses that had succumbed her to numbness, for all the sadness, the pain, the helplessness, too many emotions that a young woman should not have had to deal with. And she hadn't managed them properly. Natia hardened, swallowing her breath as she froze, watching Sergeant Toye's eyes.

" Go." she said, " Just go." Sucking in a breath, she remained guarded.

And Sergeant Toye just watched her eyes, the way they were inches from filling with the tears. But Natia watched him slowly turn, his gate taking him farther and farther away from her frozen figure.

Natia watched him, eyes narrowed, as she fought the quivering of her throat, the painful strain that constricted it and the way her jaw clenched from holding back. It ached.

Natia finally shut her eyes and let out soft breath after breath, trying to calm herself, trying to regain a sense of control, something, anything to lessen the pain that slowly infiltrated her heart and made her feel shattered all over again.

Natia willed the pain to stop spreading to her fingers and toes, she willed it to slow for a moment to catch her breath, but pain never ceased for her, it never would quit, it would just flow, one drip after the other, with no end in sight.

And she was the one who numbed it all, until no one would ever suspect what she was hiding. No one deserved to pity as meager of a soul as her own.

Because by numbing herself, no one could ever hurt her - she wouldn't feel a thing.

By numbing herself, she was safe from this cruel world.

Because in numbness lied her salvation.

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H I S T O R I C A L N O T E S

No important historical notes for this chapter (next week's update has more!!)

A / N

_HELLO!!! If you're reading this, you've made it to the end of the double update day for Landslide! So first of all thank you for reading and for all the love and support! This story is a please not only to tell but to write and to be able to share it all with you is an absolute joy! I have to say the next update is one of my top favorite chapters from this first chunk because then the following week we hit Part 2 entitled Portrait of a Spy!! Very very excited to dig into relationships and connections and the angst of war and just really show how sad war can be for some people - Natia really - so it'll be interesting. Definitely an extremely fun part to write where I really expand on Episode 5 and what it has to offer with loads of scenes that were not in the show but I crafted myself! I'm very excited!! And I hope you are too!! Thanks again everyone!_


	26. For A Shielded Gaze

" Rome has grown since its humble beginnings that it is now overwhelmed by its own greatness." 

_\- Titus Livius_

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**_Outskirts of Nuenen, Holland_ **

**_September 18th, 1944_ **

_**2100** _

Agent Mortem was never kind, but she supposed it was from his time as a child, when others would laugh at him for the way he ran. Sideways, with a cane, he moved amongst the shadows of the schoolyard, cowering in their gazes, at the limp leg he'd been born with. He laughed years later in their faces when he managed to become an Agent and they hadn't. It's why she only ever worked with him in a secret study, his tips, his ideals, his morals, being tracked like a sensor in her mind. It's why she was trained to be so deadly - because it was like he was seeing himself - all over again, in herself. 

Agent Mortem had taken her from the scraps and turned her into the war-machine War had always deemed fit for his tasks. 

But Agent Mortem was the reason she was like this - so numb, so distant, so deadly, so broken. 

Walking back through the field of American soldiers, her face remained in that cold, permanent frown, helmet tipped over her eyes, and her arms gated across her chest, hugging closely to herself as she moved. She knew people were looking at her, watching her every move, studying her, whispering about her. They didn't think she could hear them, but she heard every word that left their mouths, and it only made her blood boil more. 

Upon arriving back at the foxhole, she found George sitting, quietly eating a K-ration, eyes dazed off forward. Natia's pace slowed as she watched George, this seemingly, happy-go-lucky sort of guy, always grinning, cracking a joke or two, checking up on his friends, sitting off all alone. Something in her heart fell, like the tip had just been cracked off. 

Suddenly, she saw herself amongst the tables in her SOE training, sitting all alone at a darkened table in the corner, people sitting with friends at the other tables, joyful, happy, proud. She haf barely touched the soup in front of her. Natia slowly cleared her throat and then took a few steps forward. 

George was the one to look up at the sound of her footfalls and notice her coming back towards him - he even smiled a bit. He had bravery if he were to smile in the face of Death.

" Hey," George said as Natia forced a smile on her face before sitting down beside George, about 2 feet in between them. Natia sat quietly beside George, remaining more still than she had ever been before. But something about not being alone and having George's presence by her side meant more than anything in the world at the current moment. 

And George didn't say a word, he just sat quietly, giving cautious glances every once and a while towards her to make sure she seemed okay, before returning to the K-ration. As the night persisted on, with no sign of Bull, it seemed everyone grew more glum and dreary as dread seemed to drip into the pits of their stomachs, turning them sour. For a moment, Natia realized how important Sergeant Randleman seemed to be to Easy Company, their attachment to an NCO like himself. And it made her realize how close a company like Easy Company was. 

Glancing up, Natia found two pairs of boots standing across the foxhole from her and George and she met the eyes of.....of...Malarkey, _yes_. And Muck. Yes those were their names. From when she had helped them move Lieutenant Compton to safety with the wooden door.

" How's Lieutenant Compton?" She realized she was quick to ask, quick to question, quick to even just assume. Sergeant Guarnere had yanked her away before she had even been able to see if Lieutenant Compton would be okay. Malarkey - the red-head - glanced over towards Muck, the one who seemed to have the most gentle eyes out of anyone here, and Muck watched him.

" It seems he'll be okay, from what Doc Roe said." Muck answered her, a curious yet hesitant nod leaving his figure as he did and Malarkey nodded as well. Natia had to hold herself from narrowing her eyes, from analyzing - they were trying, genuinely, to be nice it seemed.

" I'm glad," Natia said with a nod and she even saw the sense of a smile on both their faces. George grinned a bit. 

" Mind if we sit in here?" Muck asked her, and Natia's eyes widened a little, confused that they wanted to sit here but then she nodded.

" Alright," Muck said, sliding down onto his bottom, as Malarkey followed with a grin. Natia watched the two soldiers clammer down beside one another, removing their helmets as they did so, immediately calming Natia down in the process. Because now she could see their faces, they weren't just another soldier of war. Meeting Malarkey's eyes, she watched a boyish grin spread on his face, as his eyes seemed to glow the tiniest bit with life, even under the cover of darkness and for a moment Natia felt safe, in this tiny little group. 

" I'm Skip Muck." Muck said, offering her a wide smile as she sat across from him, " Warren, if you wish, but Skip suits me better."

" And I'm Donald Malarkey," Malarkey said, " gave us quite the scare seeing you out there today." Natia smirked the slightest bit.

" I was just happy to have helped Lieutenant Compton off," she said and noticed Skip and Don glance at each other briefly with smiles.

" That's actually one of the reasons we came here," Skip said, " for what you did for Buck." Natia looked up towards him, gaze steady. 

" What I did?" she asked him and Skip nodded with a tiny grin on his face.

" For Chrissake, you were about to turn, run out and do the same for the rest of these guys, so yeah exactly what you did." Don said with a small chuckle, and Natia watched him. 

" I would do that for anyone." she said quietly, with pride, " and I can see how important he is to all of the men." And Natia herself knew the pain of losing a commander who you thought could never be touched. General Rowecki, she felt, he'd be proud. The trio of men watched her gently, as she watched back.

" What makes you say so?" Skip asked her, shrugging his shoulders a bit, " Just curious, really." Natia watched him, her mind suddenly racing back through her time within the Resistance, and what she had done to ensure no one had to go through what her and her siblings had gone through - the pain of losing someone who was far to precious to lose. Natia met Skip's gaze.

" Because I know the feeling, of losing someone you care for. No one deserves that sort of suffering." Natia said, before turning to let her eyes greet her hands again. It fell quiet. The guys seemed to glance at each other a bit - it was a bit of an uneasy tension, like no one was quiet sure what to say. But what could you say to a girl who didn't even have an answer like that for herself? Nothing. You could say nothing. _Pity_. They were pitying her. She didn't deserve the pity, for there were much larger things that they didn't have a clue about. They saw the cover, but the pages inside had yet to be touched. She figured it was much better kept that way.

" Hey, Agent Fidel?" Natia slowly looked upwards and found the innocent face of Donald Malarkey looking back at her, " Thank you, for what you did....for Buck. Really." Natia watched him. It seemed the words were fighting with her heart, for her to even accept the thanks, the words pushing in through the icy layer, and her heart frosting over more and more, layer after layer building on top of one another. 

Natia could only nod, and for a moment she was disgusted with herself of her reaction. These men were thanking her for saving the life of one of their own and all she could was fucking _nod_? Natia felt her stomach twist, as her gaze turned icy, her eyes submissive and cold, and entirely unreadable, the mood shifting suddenly, as Natia grew sick to her stomach it felt.

" Get some rest." Muck said to her, as she slowly let her gaze crawl to his face as he stood up, Malarkey, almost begrudgingly following his friend with a glance to the suddenly cold Natia. Her gaze had hardened and for a moment, she barely looked human. Nodding again. It's all she did. She _NODDED_. 

Muck and Malarkey trailed away, no sounds emitting from their tightly sealed lips. George watched them go before glancing back towards Natia again, watching as her jaw clenched, and her eyes suddenly looked heavy in her skull.

" I think Skip was on to something," George said, with a slight forced smile on his face, trying to even just see a fraction of life in her eyes, " resting sounds nice." 

Natia barely moved, the slow nod of her head the only sign she'd heard him. Numb and tired. She was so tired. She wanted to scream out, to let the riled up anxious nerves that had filtered into her system finally run free into this horrid world, finally let the Nazis hear the pain of millions through the scream of one. To finally drill something through their obnoxious minds. But she sat there silent. That night curled on her side in the slightly muddy foxhole, her back to the snoring George Luz, she dreamt about her childhood home, the wooden piano and the lyrical happiness that once had flooded such a beautiful home. 

Natia squeezed her eyes shut, as a chilly breeze traveled in through the pit in the ground, trying to remember the sound of Concert in D, even just what the first few notes were like to fill her mind with a temporary happiness, something to keep her brain at bay. 

But gunshots were the only thing that rattled in her brain. 

A clear sign, she didn't seem deserving of any ounce of whatever happiness she imagined she was deserving of. 

When you took life so quickly, it seemed you never were deserving of happiness at all. 

The sun greeted her again the following morning, through the clouds which turned the blue sky, gray, and the muttering of voices outside the slightly warm foxhole was enough to keep her eyes blinking a bit to stay open. Her head felt heavy as she shifted a bit in the uniform, her blurred vision slowly clearing as she looked around a bit.

" Hey, you two." a voice said and Natia craned her neck upwards, her eyes straining to remain open as they filled with tiredness again. Who was speaking and why was their voice so ungodly annoying at this time of hour? George shifted beside her, before rolling over into his side, letting out an equally annoyed and exhausted groan, letting his eyes cast upward. 

" What?" George asked.

" We're on the move soon." the man said.

" Bull come back yet?" George questioned as Natia yawned, rubbing her eye briefly.

" Wish I could say so, but then I'd be lying." the man said.

" Ah shit."

" Yeah, yeah." the man said, before Natia squinted a bit.

" Any news from Captain Winters?" she tried - lord knows the ginger-haired Captain was probably making sure she didn't throw herself in front of a German tank and throw a grenade on it for luck.

" Who's asking?" the man said, and she watched a smirk grow on his face.

" Agent Fidel." she said coldly.

" Ah, right, Agent." he said, running a hand along his bottom lip as he briefly looked up towards the rest of the group, " So you do spy stuff?" Natia mentally punched him in the face. 

" Any news from Captain Winters?" she repeated again already in the slightest pissed off by this man, with an ego of cockiness, and an aura of confidence, and a tangible All-American way of simply just crouching by her foxhole. The man smirked.

" C'mon Tab just answer her question, stop being an asshole." George said, slightly annoyed by the exhausted tone of his voice. Natia moved her eyes upward to this Tab person and narrowed her eyes. 

" The man's not gonna have any because of the lunatics we have running this shit show I hope you know." Tab said, briefly licking his lips as if it were salt, before looking back down at them, " So..sorry to disappoint."

" I expect nothing less." muttered George.

" Shut up." grumbled Tab, as George chuckled, " Start getting yourselves ready, we'll be moving out soon."

" Aye-aye Captain." George mocked as if he were a pirate.

" Don't ever do that again." Tab grumbled as George chuckled.

" Aye-aye Captain." George said again, as Tab walked away, shaking his head. Natia slowly turned and met George's eyes, who simply shrugged with a smirk.

" What's life without a little fun." he said, looping his helmet on his head before doing the same motion to her, settling the rim just above her eyes.

" Enlighten me." she offered. George smirked.

" C'mon, we don't need Lip beating us from these foxholes - or better yet your best friend Bill Guarnere."

" Can we please not talk about that?" she grumbled, as she heaved herself up and out of the pit and into the fresh sunlight, " Or better yet the other asshole whom I still have no name to who decided to fight me with his words yesterday."

" You're gonna have to be more specific in a group of Americans, there Flip. Words are a defense mechanism here." George said with another chuckle, that sent Natia rolling her eyes. Her hands touched the fresh soil that the Earth bore and she was able to let herself take in a breath of the last days of the summer months' air. To feel air in her lungs was an inviting idea when she felt that all the time she was gasping for oxygen. 

Heaving their radios out, George and Natia kept them in the sun, the ball of heat warming them up again, after a night of being shoved into the side of the muddy foxhole. Natia stretched herself a bit and took a moment to glanced out from under her helmet towards where the other members of Easy would be. She immediately caught Bill and Joe talking, helmets removed from their heads, as they talked back and forth, laughs moving from both of their mouths in a joyous manner. Natia's eyes narrowed in an anger filled flame of fire. And she saw Johnny go up and start talking to them, a cackle leaving his lips at one of their comments. Natia had to turn away - it was her fault. It was all her own fault.

" Man, if looks could kill, Flip..." George said as he approached her, flipping out a cigarette to put on his lip as she scowled to herself.

" For once, you're correct." she said, eyes narrowed. They were not her enemy, but they felt like her enemy, every bit of them. She had tried too hard - they were Americans after all and she was nothing but a Polish Agent, trying to get home. And once she got home, they would never have to speak of this experience ever again - in a month she could be home.

" I'm going to go look for your Captain, rest assure, I don't need him seeking me out like I'm a child, when everyone already stares enough as it is." Natia said to George as he looked her way surprised.

" Want me to come with y-"

" No." Natia said quickly, shaking her head, " No...you stay here. Just incase Bull...if he comes back." Natia didn't want George to come. Because if Bull came back and George wasn't there to see it, the pit of guilt would only growing. They deserved to see someone lost come back, and come back alive. George smiled slightly at her and nodded.

" I'll see you in a bit, Flip." George said, before she nodded slowly and turned her gaze back up the dike, socked in, a phrase George had coined to her yesterday, with the remnants of the battered British tanks, officers up above, moving amongst the soldiers below in the field. Natia sucked in a breath. 

Moving up along the dike, her booted feet carried her up along the grass, beads of sweat collecting along her forehead as she did so, her eyes remaining narrowed in their introspective view she had a habit of resorting too. 

Moving along the side of the tanks facing the glowing sun, she felt her body heat up under the sun's reflective rays, and took the opportunity to glance down back towards where the men were dug out under in foxholes. 

As she moved along, a presence moving towards her along the sides of the tanks, entered her field of vision, and her body immediately stiffened, with a hardened gazed and wolf-like irises. He walked cautiously, slowly, his helmet unmoving as it tilted down over his eyes, and she watched him trail closer, the American weapon - _Thompson_ \- that Johnny used, tapping on his back as his one hand remained occupied by the strap and the other was in the company of a half burnt cigarette. 

Lieutenant. 

His bars peaked out of his collar evidently, in an attempt to hide that he was one. Interesting. Not like she wasn't doing the same with the helmet over her eyes. Before she could even register what entirely she was doing, she slowly let her stone-cold gaze move up to meet the eyes of the Lieutenant. 

And darkness caught her soul in almost an instance, and her legs slowed as her natural response as he too forced an upturned lip her way and watched her intensely. 

Natia bit back a seemingly sarcastic response to the man and instead grimaced, nodding slowly in his direction as she did so. His eyes squinted for a brief moment, as hers only grew with darkness. But then she looked away from his narrowed eyes and locked them forward again, ignoring him. She wasn't about to call him sir.

" Where are your chevrons, soldier?" the voice asked her, as Natia's gate slowed, the hairs on the back of her neck standing up as her fist slowly clenched into a ball, turning her knuckles white yet again, the little indents having the murky waters of blood return to them as she stood there. 

" I don't need chevrons." she answered quietly, her eyes narrowed, as the Lieutenant's own burned bullets into the back of her skull. It was quiet, the chatter of the men below the only thing lingering up past the ears as they stood there, in a silent stand off it seemed. 

Natia wanted her pistol in hand, something to grasp onto in this ungodly, uncomfortable situation, which pertained really to the dragon of complete anger that willed itself to claw out right from her chest.

" I am going to have to ask for-" Natia whipped around to meet his eyes, narrowing hers further as she watched him. 

" You won't have to ask for anything, Lieutenant, I can promise you that. Agent Fidel." Her brown eyes watched his own, hand numbly held out in front of her, unwavering ad firm.

" The Polish Agent." the man said and her eyes remained locked on his own. How did he know she was Polish? She tried to think, her mind spiraling, crashing in waves over each other in complete, utter panic. How did he KNOW? But Natia narrowed her gaze, confidence like a wave of freedom.

" That's right." Natia said with a nod, " Chevrons are not fit for an Agent like myself. Once I make way with this company through the remainder of your mission, I will return home and this will never be spoken of again - chevrons are not needed for a one month return."

" You say that quite confidently, Agent." the Lieutenant said, before slowly clasping his hand around her own, shaking it firmly as their eye contact remained cold. 

" Why wouldn't I? For how could I lose hope in my great nation that got absolutely no help for years on end?" The Lieutenant's hand drew back from her own, as her chin tilted upwards, eyes refusing to leave his own. 

Moving her eyes from this man's would show a sign of weakness in the face of this cold Lieutenant. She wouldn't dare let her guard down in front of a man who wouldn't even reveal his name.

" Rome was one of the greatest empires of the world - legendary. It fell too." Natia's eyes narrowed.

" Then be lucky we're not Rome." she said, her jaw clenching angrily. The Lieutenant's dark gaze underneath the helmet remained on her own, the sun shading his cold facade which dawned on his face. 

Suddenly, calls out from down below on the grassy embankment, turned the Lieutenant and Agent's eyes on the voices below and Natia's eyes caught upon the figure under the sun, seated in the passenger side of the vehicle, grin on is slightly blooded and grimy features, a gaggle of American soldiers slowly descending off the back. 

It was Sergeant Randleman - it was Bull. 

Natia watched the men flock towards Bull, patting him on the back, as they all shook hands with one another, grins on their brightened cheeks, relaxed postures and bed-head for each. 

For a moment, Natia forgot she was in the company of the Lieutenant with no name.

" If you're apart of Easy, why aren't you with them?" the Lieutenant asked her, as Natia clenched her jaw, eyes turning back to him. She would not answer his dumb question because he already knew the answer. And he seemed to figure out that she wasn't answering either. 

" Lieutenant Speirs." he offered her, " I'm with Dog Company." Natia wished he'd stayed at Dog Company, for her anger against this man and his stark use of the Roman Legion and their ultimate downfall was enough to become of an even greater annoyance.

" At least my country will fight to not have the barbaric Germans overthrow my country, not just let the country be taken over." she said, before giving a firm nod to the man, " Lieutenant." 

Turning, she let herself be carried away by her own two feet, moving farther and farther away from the silent Lieutenant with the shielded gaze. Her only hope left was in her country - she knew that they were outnumbered in Warsaw, they always had been, but they had to fight, it was the only way to ensure the possibility of life after it all. She had lost that hope in herself. Long ago. She was sure that if her anger levels could be measured, it would quite literally be off the charts - she did not need the snarky Lieutenant to remind her that even Rome fell as her country, her small city, fought tooth and nail at the moment for freedom. If she weren't here right now, she wold be fighting alongside them with pride. 

Captain Winters stood in the company of the Map-Keeper again, who chuckled over a cigarette, Lieutenant Welsh, with the Lieutenant bars hidden beneath the collar still, as well as a Lieutenant that was not Lieutenant Compton - one who seemed anxious, who didn't seem to stand still - quite like.....Her mind stopped. Quite like Felicjan. Her thoughts forced her legs to slow her quick pace and increase her steady heart rate. 

_Ignore it. Ignore it, get over it._

" Captain Winters." Natia called as she approached, willingly throwing up a salute in the process, which sent a smirk on the Map-Keepers face as she approached. She stopped in front of the Captain, looking up at him with narrowed eyes. _Control yourself_ \- that's what Agent Mortem would've said to her. It's what she said to herself now. 

" What have the British decided on today? Please do enlighten me, we don't need another Nuenen run in after yesterday." The Map-Keeper chuckled at her question, as the ginger watched her. 

Slipping a few bits of anger into her phrase was the only way to maintain herself and her brewing anger. Her anger was quite obviously directed towards every member of leadership but she had more dignity than impulsiveness in her mind and a reputation to uphold - losing her mind would not answer all problems. And in the grand scheme of her life, this was a little hiccup. 

She wouldn't stoop so low - they may be at odd ends, but Natia had bigger issues than what the British decided for an American company. She had a home to get back to. In her mind, she was right, she had been since 2 days back when she announced the Germans had all but not entirely retreated. 

That was enough..for now.

" Ensure that all bridges not yet captured - are captured." Captain Winters said, and Natia glanced up towards him. 

" And is this moving onwards through Nazi filled towns?" she questioned. Captain Winters watched her as the Map-Keeper nearly let out a chuckle.

" Because then the men are spreading too thin to hold this line that you've previously fortified." Natia explained firmly. Captain Winters glanced at Captain Nixon who cleared his throat and went to turn his focus back on the map scrawled out in his hands, fiddling with the flimsy strap of his binoculars. Lieutenant Welsh was watching her with inquisitive eyes, and it was enough to force her own eyes on him from under the darkened rim of her helmet. 

" What?" she asked, her voice snippy.

" We must be dumb or you must be a genius." 

" Neither of those are the correct answers, Lieutenant." Natia answered firmly back, " I've just seen war, for years on end with no end in sight - I've grown use to their putrid ways. And you are not dumb - you've fought in the Normandy campaign, clearly something has been working amongst you brains." Her response was silencing in its ways as Lieutenant Welsh narrowed his eyes at her.

" I just offer that you alert whoever is in charge of you, Captain. For your own safety." Her words fell on the Captain's ears as he watched her, eyes searching hers for answers he would never get," We don't need a rerun like Nuenen again, that's what I can assure you of - your men don't need that."

" Thank you, Agent." his voice was firm against her ears, causing the permanent frown to deepen. Yet, she couldn't miss, the ounce of evident hurt in his eyes. He would break soon enough. He was human....she had that effect. Call it a specialty if you would.

" We'll get right on it," Captain Nixon said a bit sarcastically, making Natia's blood boil the slightest bit, as she tried to tamper it down a bit with what logical inclinations she felt, but it was quite hard to have even that in war. 

" I'll just do it myself." she said, adjusting the radio upon her back as she did so, and pushing the helmet from her dead eyes to meet the Captain's.

" Where is your leader, Colonel Sink I believe?" she questioned as Captain Winters' jaw seemed to clench the slightest bit.

" You're not-" the ginger paused to regroup a bit as he watched her, " you're not going to Colonel Sink, alright?" 

Natia was making him aggravated. It was only the truth - but she knew the Captain couldn't do much to switch the minds of the ones who lead - the top officers. And he was like a rag doll, pulled between the two truths of the war. 

Leadership or the one who knew war like the back of her hand yet withheld no trust. 

The first would remain his only option thus far. 

Lieutenant Welsh seemed to chuckle even at the looks on the two faces of the stern faced humans, eyes watching each other harshly under the scorching sun, arms crossed, gated like barriers - they were so different. Natia KNEW they were different. She led as a lone-wolf, he led in a pack as the alpha. She would never know what it was like to lead a charge with anyone but herself - she always worked better alone anyway. Because then if she died it was no one's fault but herself and she wouldn't have to deal with the guilt, she'd already be dead. 

Captain Winters - from her gathered intelligence of almost 48 hours with the ginger-haired man - bore every death of his men as if it were his own child, and he took it to heart. She could see the look in his eyes. She was an outsider, someone that had come from a war-torn country, broken like herself, infiltrating his trained and conditioned company. He had a right to be acting this way towards her, but she would act this way right back with _pleasure_.

" Yes, sir." she said, her neutral, " Just....keep a look out, please. I know that these Nazis did not leave Holland open for bridges to be captured by their enemy." And with that, her feet turned her around, leading her away from the officers of Easy, eyes narrowed in anger. She wished for the life of her that this switch could finally flip off, but when she knew someone was walking into imminent danger, especially with the enemy that had killed her parents and many more friends, she had a right to fight for their safety even if they didn't want it. 

If it got her closer to home, she'd risk it all. 

Natia approached the truck where she saw the heads of 1st platoon members poking above, and tried to simmer down for a moment. Rounding the corner of the truck, Natia's eyes caught on Doc Roe, with the bandage patching Sergeant Randleman's - Bull's - shoulder.

" Bull." Natia said, her eyes growing wide the slightest bit as he sat, dirt and sweat covering his face, layers of grime mixed with blood and exhaustion, but an evident fight that had willed him his life. 

" Agent Fidel." he said with a nod and the slightest hint of a smile on his features. Natia nodded back, eyes moving to Doc Roe's own deep ones. A nod emitted from himself and she nodded back - a silent confirmation between the two, enough was said through eye contact. 

Then a hand appeared down in front of her and her eyes carried her up to meet the eyes of George Luz. A smirk was on his lips and Natia couldn't help but feel an ethereal warmth touch her being - the first in a long time.

" Yeah, we're not leaving you behind, Flip," George said, with a small chuckle, " not yet at least." Natia felt the corner of her lip tilt upwards, as she looked down briefly. Looking back up she tried her best at a smile and slowly nodded. 

" Thanks for that." she said and George chuckled, before she let herself grab onto his hand to pull her up beside him in the truck. Her bottom hit the wood beside him, as she settled in comfortably. 

The two radiomen, agent and technician respectively, glanced towards one another briefly under the shining sun. He wore a cocky gin, and she sported the neutral gaze, but side by side, for a moment, they were just humans in a war not meant for either - the kind or the broken. 

For a brief moment, the world was right on its axis for once. 

And War smirked from his perch amongst an old tree in the foreground - his perfect little war machine...off she goes...forever wandering. 

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H I S T O R I C A L N O T E S 

> For quite some time in my fics, I've wanted to play around with the idea of Spiers and all his knowledge of the Romans and their Ancient History and I just really loved that concept more than anything - SO - many interactions between Natia and Speirs are based around their knowledge of Roman History (a little fun thing for me as a Latin student) and here is where we first see that bit of anger lashed out through this Roman history. Natia might have inflated her knowledge quite a bit, but it gets the point across - Speirs is equally matched with the powerhouse that is Natia with the knowledge she also holds - he now knows she is no mindless fool - she has intelligence and intends to use every bit of it. And another thing...he doesn't scare her. ;) 

A / N 

_HELLO!! We have arrived at the FINAL chapter of the first part of Landslide! Next week we finally get into Part 2, entitled Portrait of a Spy, arguably my favorite part so far of this book because we DIG IN, if you know what I mean. I added huge chunks of moments not portrayed in the Band of Brothers TV series, from research I did, personally, and from moments I created for extremely specific reasons that you'll later see. This book has given me the ability to really stretch my brain and allow me to really world-build upon different things within Easy Company with Natia and I'm SO SO HAPPY with how it all turned out more than anything and I'm even more excited for the updates that are to come starting next Friday - the first #LandslideDay of Part 2! Thank you ALL for reading and sticking with the story, I'm so incredibly proud of where I've gotten with this fic and where I am as a writer and as a person, and I hope you all enjoy reading! :D Happy reading and until next Friday!_


	27. Weapons Don't Weep

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HELLO!! Welcome to Part 2 of Landslide, entitled Portrait of a Spy! Definitely, out of all the parts of Landslide, this has to be my favorite - the vibes are quite ominous, a bit dark, and there's this air of suspicion with - you guessed it - the radio signal that Natia is awaiting! A part that I will always adore! I hope you all enjoy the 2nd part of Natia's story!

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**_September 26th, 1944_ **

**_Uden, Holland_ **

**_1800_ **

**_1 day after Operation Market-Garden has ended_ **

It was raining again, the foxholes becoming muddied with a murky dirt and water mixture, running down onto their boots, over the grey ponchos and helmets looped on their heads. The rain had caused sleepless nights among other things, but then there was the constant gunfire, the occasional distant bomb, the dysentery that followed a few soldiers, or the flow of bugs like gnats and mosquitoes picking at your skin under the hot sun all day, and then the whispers of cold air, an onset of fall, late in the night. 

Almost daily, bridges and paths were blocked, resulting in the division having to turn and move along in the other direction, before settling for foxholes that night instead - and the cycle was exhausting, more exhausting than not, and numbing to the mind. 

Day in and day out, when Natia wasn't firing the newly delivered American Thompson - something Lieutenant Welsh had hesitantly offered her, resulting in her finally having to drop the Polish weapon that had run out of proper ammo - she was sitting with the radio on by her side, a discarded K-ration propped up along her muddy boot, and slumped shoulders as she sat in wait for the radio to crackle to life, for a simple sound other than the voices of the Americans at the Command Post, to follow.

It was never the case though, and she felt it never would be at this point. The men watched her almost pitifully, walking through bullets and gunfire like she were invincible, and then going back and sitting alone in her foxhole as she awaited a radio signal. It seemed every night it occurred - and she barely spoke to a soul. 

George was her only companion it seemed and even then the bonds of slight trust in one another that had been there upon first meeting seemed detached. She was falling into her old ways again, she knew she was. And the persistent gazes of the men were of absolutely no help. 

Veghel had not been forgiving upon the end of Operation Market-Garden. For as long as they had fought, the Germans had retreated and by that point it was time to retreat back to Uden - a long tiring march in the pouring rain, as boots met mud, moral dropped to a shattering low, and voices were silenced by the dripping of the rain on their helmets. 

The offensive against the Nazi division had been a tough one, heavily fought for on both sides, but with the news of defeat weighing on their shoulders, it was diminishing in enthusiasm and a will to fight for almost everyone. 

Natia sat motionless by George's side as the rain puddled down onto their helmeted heads, their ponchos instead on their radios and not on their bodies. George was shivering a bit beside her, she could sense the slight shivers that emitted from his being every so often as the rain puddled. The winters of Warsaw, with no heat and barely any wood to start a fire had been much harsher. Her finger tips had turned white - she still remembered the feeling and even to this day it made her shutter at the mere thought. 

George was glancing her way, she could tell because the hairs on the back of her neck was somewhat of a signal that she was being watched. Someone was always watching.

" You cold?" George asked her as Natia barely registered him talking. She shook her head.

" I'm alright." she answered him, meeting his eyes, " I should be asking you that." George was hesitant as he watched her, clasping his arms around his chest tightly as he let out a tiny huff.

" Just a bit." he said to her and Natia clenched her jaw at the thought of knowing George was even just the slightest bit cold. Rain caused sickness, sickness caused discomfort and most often discomfort caused death. And Death was more than used to accepting the stumbling of the sick through his passages to the afterlife. 

Sitting on the edge of the foxhole, Death himself barely even felt the rain penetrating him, but instead felt the pain of the Agent at his feet. Death cocked his head a bit when Natia did nothing but shut her eyes to release a pocket of air from her lungs briefly before reopening. She was struggling, they all were. But a voice interrupted them as Death cast his eyes upward.

" Hey guys," the voice said, crouching down by the side of the foxhole, and the two radio operators were met with the eyes of Private Vest, the mail carrier. Mail. She knew the mail was for George, but the thought of mail, just a piece of paper, made her heart clench inside her chest suddenly. 

" Luz," Private Vest said, pulling an envelope from his bag and passing it down in the rain towards the radio operator.

" Thanks, Vest," George said as Natia watched him take it and hold it close to him to keep it from the rain. Private Vest nodded and looked briefly to Natia.

" No, mail-" She nodded cutting him off - she didn't expect any. Private Vest pitifully nodded before slowly moving to his feet.

" First mail call since Aldbourne - hopefully not the last." he offered to the two, a hopeful nod to Natia. At least he had hope, she knew she'd never receive one.

" Thanks," George said, his voice sounding filled with evident exhaustion in his simple tone. Private Vest moved away, back into the darkness and ever-pouring heaviness of the rain, as Natia slowly turned to glance towards George who looked at the letter with a slight hint of a glowing eye. 

" Who's it from?" Natia tested the waters with the question - it could get a happy response, an angry response, or a sad response - it was better just to start there.

" My mother," George said and Natia could hear the warmth in his voice, the happiness that flooded his tone - pure love. Natia's heart clenched a bit, as she tried to smile the slightest bit and simply just be happy for him. He got a letter from his mother in this horrid war - it was a peaceful sight. George was quick to turn the letter over and carefully pull it open, a tiny grin on his face as he did so. 

Even in the downpour, George didn't seem to care, he just wanted to read the letter from his mother. 

He was pure. 

Natia focused back on her pruning hands, as she glanced briefly every so often over to her right to watch George read the letter - she could see him snickering at certain parts, then smiling so wide she was sure a bird could see it, and then softly smiling at the little piece of paper so fondly. The rain continued to pour as George read his letter in the silent company of the Agent. Eventually, he rolled up the piece of paper and put it into his front pocket with a soft sigh, grinning to himself as he did so. 

" Good news I hope," Natia said willingly and George grinned at her with a nod.

" Little sister Maria's being the kid she always is, just started school, excited for Halloween - you know that kid stuff." George said and Natia forced a smile towards him the best she could. 

" What's she like? Maria?" Natia asked him. The nostalgia of a sibling seemed to haunt her in that moment, and she wished that hearing someone else speaking of their own would bring some sort of comfort in the rainy downpour.

" Don't tell me she's like you." Natia remarked offhandedly making George chuckle animatedly. 

" No, no, she's....she's the little sister you've always wanted." George said and Natia couldn't help but meet his eyes gently for the first time in a while, " Always laughing, she's got the cutest laugh, and she likes the little things. Watching the grass grow, one of those artists painting...even a bird up in a tree, ya know like an oak tree or something. I took her to the park all the time to climb the oak trees." As George spoke, Natia watched him grow more emotionally invested in how much he actually missed Maria. And it made her realize how much herself she missed her own siblings.

" She taught me ya know, how to braid hair on the mornings Ma couldn't. But without fail she cried when she saw a bunny without a friend as she called them, yeah she didn't like seeing 'em lonely." George's eyes grew sad as Natia watched him.

" George..." she started as he slowly glanced up towards her, " she sounds wonderful." George smiled and nodded, his slightly sunken in cheeks from lack of food starting to wear on him, as he watched her.

" What about you?" He sat back slowly, turning to look forward again, " Quite mysterious I must say, and even though I've known you for at least 10 days - family has been a no-no, questions on the whole 'old position' as well were avoided like the plague, Agent shit as well, seems like I shouldn't venture there, and childhood seems off limits - so..." Natia glanced at him, " Favorite ice cream flavor." Natia let a small smirk broaden on her lips, he sounded quite funny, but it had made her laugh even the slightest bit. But venturing farther and the paralyzed feeling might just finally warp her. So frozen, so numb, so ice cold.

" I haven't had ice cream in a while." she told him quietly as cold rain water slowly poured down past the collar of her back, spreading a familiar coldness over her entire being, as she sat there, jaw clenched in stress and exhaustion and equal aggravation. She grew quiet again and realized that ever so slowly again she was numbing herself, she was forcing herself not to feel the heart-aching pain that absolutely ripped her soul into pieces. The rain running down over her helmet wasn't helping as it blanketed her skin, like Death's chilled touch, and finally reached her bones.

" Hey, if it's true of what they really say, with this war over by Christmas, I'll make sure it's the first taste of freedom you get." George said sitting up beside her in the stiffening mud. Natia only felt the trickle of the rain harder, the impending and pounding of the drops of water from the sky, more and more, weighing her further and further down into the ground. 

For a second, it was like the foxhole was her grave, her deathbed, her final resting place, and the water was slowly filling, suffocating her, filling her lungs, forcing her to choke for air again. But her air had ran out. 

Natia softly let out a shuttering breath and didn't realize the bout of warmth in her palms. Blood. Her blood. She had turned white-knuckle again, she knew she had, she could feel the warmth seeping into her palms even more by this point. 

Because Natia wanted that, she wanted what George talked about, but she would never get it - for what she had done in war, what she had let happen, what guilt built upon her, she didn't deserve that, any of it. And she never would. So Natia jut nodded as she swallowed the guilty pain. And the pain was only more consuming.

" I'll be back." she said suddenly, shuffling to her feet, the mud and rain washing down around her as she adjusted herself on her feet, as George looked up at her in the falling rain.

" Where you going?" he asked her and Natia watched him, gaze hardened, under the darkness and looking like Death had just stepped into her shoes.

" Need to clear my mind." she said, her voice quiet, but cold, her tone unbalanced. 

" I'll be back." she said with a nod, hoping it was enough as to not worry him - if anything she wished there was a patrol being sent out and she could just go out and focus on anything besides her racing mind. 

She shouldered the Thompson, the metal becoming slicked in rain and remnants of mud, and grasped the edges of the foxhole, before pushing up and out onto the soaked grass of the field near Uden that Easy Company occupied. Standing up to her full height, she squinted a bit through the slightly cold rain and attempted to glance around the best she could. She didn't have a clue where she'd go, possibly just to cool herself off, to clear her brain, for her mind was her worst weapon. 

Walking through the falling rain, her eyes caught on each individual foxhole briefly before moving again to the next, with cautious footsteps, and narrowed eyes, it was like she blended into the darkened sky and falling rain. 

Maybe she could disappear. 

Slowly returning her gaze to the front to her body she noticed a figure, with a slightly lanky gate, but not really - screw it, she didn't even know what gate, who cared. They moved from foxhole to foxhole - she could see them clearer now - it was Sergeant Toye. 

Natia bit back her lip in evident aggravation and nearly drew blood. She had avoided him for over a week - well she had avoided everyone. 

Except George. 

George had been a good companion. Muck and Malarkey had given soft looks, but hadn't approached her again, but in battle, were there for her, even if it was shooting while she reloaded - a mutual respect. Natia kept her eyes forward, she just wanted to walk right past him, avoid eye contact, avoid conversation, act like she had no business in his own. Her feet didn't slow when he glanced towards her, she refused to slow.

" Agent Fidel." She heard his voice, she heard each word, each syllable, but she refused to turn. 

" Agent Fidel." he called again. Natia's gaze narrowed as her fists clenched harshly into her palms.

" I don't want to talk right now." she said, as her gate slowed, feeling the rain pound harder down onto her Olive Drabs and her helmet. Her knuckles were white. With his silence as his only answer, she kept moving.

" Hey...hey, Fidel." Sergeant Toye called but Natia kept moving. Suddenly, a warm hand was on her frozen one, turning her around to face him as her eyes met his own, rain clambering down around them as she watched him. She was quick to rip her wrist from his hand and back next to her body like the good soldier she was.

" Don't touch me." she snapped, the easy facade she had up with George a few moments ago, suddenly gone. Sergeant Toye's eyes narrowed down at her in the rain, as she stared up at him intensely. She couldn't help but notice his eyes travel right back down to her clenched fists at her sides, the white-knuckle clench of death reprising more than just an angry face.

" You alway clench your fists 'till they bleed?" Sergeant Toye said as Natia narrowed her gaze further.

" Why do you even care?" her voice trickled out lowly, as she clenched her fists even further. His eyes were on her again. The rain made his uniform dripping wet, sagging down on his broad shoulders and the height difference - it was supposed to be daunting, him towering over her in the darkness of a storm - if anything it gave her a chance to really study this Sergeant without him seeing the pathway of her eyes. 

Sergeant Toye didn't answer, nor did he seem to have one for her. His eyes were unreadable, a masked expression blossoming across his features and he clenched his jaw. Natia wasn't sure exactly how to even respond.

" Look, I wanted..to apologize for, uh, what I said." Sergeant Toye said and Natia was quick to meet his eyes again. It was silent, except for the falling rain as they watched one another - say something. 

" I was being an ass-"

" Yes, you were."

" Can I finish?" Sergeant Toye said and Natia tried to hide the pissed chuckle she wanted to let escape, but she remained frozen, her own gaze unreadable, emotionless and drawn up like a puppet. 

Agent Mortem never let her finish speaking - she supposed it was just all apart of his methods he attempted to use on her, his attempt to make her the weapon she was born to be, the mindless killer with a vengeance for revenge and violence. Standing here now, it was almost like the only human being was Sergeant Toye and the figment of who Agent Fidel had been.

" I was being an ass, and I own up to it, alright?"

" Must've been from all the cognac." Natia couldn't help it, she figured there at least had to be a group that had taken something from Eindhoven - alcohol would be most predictable. Sergeant Toye glared at her and Natia didn't even let the frozen gaze break.

" I don't know what these past 5 years were like for you," Sergeant Toye said," but I didn't mean to upset you, no, nothing like that, alright? I'm sorry for what's happened to you." From the way her eyes barely seemed to register his words it was evident that they had barely even made way to her stone cold heart, like she had barely heard him speak. Because she was sorry too, for all that had happened to her that she couldn't control - all of it. And now she was here. 

" Don't pity me." she said, shaking her head, " I don't deserve pity from anyone. It's my own fault that I'm here. I shouldn't even be speaking to you now, you know? I should be home, back in my old position, fighting with my family and my friends and for my country, but instead I'm on an expedition across fucking Holland, so please excuse me if I do not ask for your pity and your praise and your sorry woes. I've heard it all." Natia slowly let her jaw clench shut as she stared up at him - she didn't expect even a reaction from him. She never did. But she did see a reaction, a real reaction, a pained reaction. 

And the guilt was like it was swallowing her whole - she didn't mean for it to sound rude or snippy, she didn't want another person to feel the pain she felt. Natia slowly stepped back, watching as he watched her.

" I..." Natia's mind was breaking down, each piece was falling apart, it was shattering. Why was she shattering? No stop shattering! _STOP_. For the love of God stop. Her vulnerabilities were coming out in the form of stringed together words, as an excuse to cover up what she really felt. 

" You okay?" Sergeant Toye questioned, taking a hesitant step forward, but she stepped back, putting a hand in front of her shakily.

" I'm fine." she breathed out, her mind sending off panic signals deep within her cortex. 

Move your feet. 

Run.

Get your feet moving. 

Threat. 

_Move!_

_**No!** _

Her mind was in shambles as she struggled to meet Sergeant Toye's gaze, she struggled to feel if her hands were still apart of her body, to make sure oxygen was filling her lungs. 

Was she breathing? 

Was she even alive? 

For a second Sergeant Toye was anything but Sergeant Toye - it was Agent Mortem, staring her down in the puddling rain, a malicious smile spreading across his lips, his hair slicked down to his head, a lit smoke playing on his lip, refusing to be put out by the falling droplets, and the tapping of his cane against his boot like clockwork inside her head. Like it were a ticking time bomb about to blow. 

She stood, watching him step closer, each step he took, even more control of his own consuming her - the cage was tightening, the liberation was locked away, and the dragon was trapped watching the gatekeeper chuckle. Natia broke away, stumbling trough the rough grass, her breathing uncontrollable. Her mind stumbled and she almost tripped over the edge of a foxhole, her hands shaking, her eyes wide. 

Death's eyes slowly shut amidst the chaos, his fists clenching tightly, his dark void changing to a trance of warped darkness. Natia stumbled to the edges of the foxhole and finally let out a breathe of air, a grimace reaching her lips as she contorted, pushing her hands to the sides of her helmet, a headache dulling behind her eyes as she squeezed them mercilessly shut, a silent prayer for herself to calm down. Her heart was racing - it felt like it were about to pulse right out of her chest. 

The rain was just getting louder and louder - all she wanted to do was scream. The piano keys were too loud, the vibrations shattering her soul; the waves crashed too violently along the shore as she watched the ripples hit the edge of the rocks; the gunshots from above cracked too wildly for her ears to handle - it was all too loud. 

Too loud. 

And finally it did, it all stopped. 

Death's eyes opened gently, twitching open and nearly shaking awake, catching upon the figure trembling in the mud, caked upon her cloths, the rain pelting down upon her in the seemingly sacred puddle. She was left curled, huddled like a wet dog with her tail between her legs, hands pressed to her ears in the pouring rain, all alone. Because all she was, was alone. 

Alone with her mind. It was a deadly sin. 

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H I S T O R I C A L N O T E S 

> After the loss of Operation MG, the company did end up retreating and receiving some of their first bits of mail since leaving England for Operation MG! Thought it'd be a sweet moment for the duo to share with one another! :D

A / N 

_HELLO! This is a bit later than I originally wanted to have out, but circumstances occurred and I had to attend to those before this (they were very important in the moment!) but I am here now with an update! It's a bit shorter than my other chapters, but it gets the point across - let's just say the next few chapters - T E N S I O N ! And a whole lot of it, especially since Natia and her chaos are quite unmatched with Easy Co. LMAO!! I hope you enjoyed this chapter! It was so much fun to write - and I'm debating whether to do another two chapter update next week?! Thoughts?! Thanks again for all the love and support! The story is only just picking up and truly beginning!! Enjoy! <3_


	28. Requiem for the Weary

" And more than that, she just looked...tired. Like she'd battled the world and the world had won."

_\- Sara Shepard_

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**_Outside of Pollards Park House, Chalfont Street Giles_ **

_**August 13th, 1940** _

The chess board inside no longer withheld the occupancy of the two Agents - since ignored and left behind as night nearly fell, left to the dust and soon to have returned. 

The queen stood above the king, trapped in a corner with no escape. 

Natia had played the game in her head for a week leading up to it and had beat Agent Mortem in 10 moves - _she wanted to beat him in 5_. 

He was limping now more than ever before though; she had assumed, by the way he sat down in his chair at night, a quiet groan leaving his lips as his fingers went to the bridge of his nose. The cane pushed much harder than before into the wooden surface of the ground and now outside it nearly sunk into the grass around them. 

Hidden away just like they were back home was the best excuse the SOE could come up with for the Polish SOE Agents deemed fit for service. 

Of course, none of them were here, no, they had followed along like the good soldiers they were, as Natia brazen as a bull, accepted ignorance as a drug, wore the long cloak of reluctance and tried to do minimal of what she could. 

Agent Mortem saw differently. 

Her pistol was held up in front of her face, pointed straight forward, her body rigid and pistol firm in her grasp. Her eyes were narrowed - she had seen Mortem do that quite often - she figured she would too. He always managed to seem so focused. Agent Mortem stood by her side, smoking through his nasty British cigar which Natia had tried on occasion but found rather disgusting if she was being honest. But she had grown used to them in a way - not an acceptance no - more of a numbness to it.

" Are you going to stand there all day or are you going to shoot it?" Agent Mortem asked her quietly, his voice barely making way to her ear over the slight gust of evening wind that decided to blow through.

" Yes. But is that my prerogative?" she questioned, " To just shoot when I wish? Or to think logically through every scenario that could get me killed by firing that weapon without second thought?" Agent Mortem chuckled quietly to himself, as if it was a joke. It wasn't, but Mortem found it quiet funny.

" Good." he said, " You've been practicing." She was supposed to be the child and glance towards him, but she was farther along than that - stay focused - he was trying to distract her. Natia clenched her jaw, as her grip on the weapon tightened further.

" Good." he said again and Natia's eyes narrowed down the length of the sleek pistol.

" Now," Agent Mortem said, clearing his throat, " do as I say." Natia grasped the gun tighter.

" Me." Mortem said - her gun was on his face within seconds.

" Reload." he nodded to her, and without breaking eye contact, she turning, popping out the unused set of bullets and let them fall to her feet, before reloading with mere ease.

" Stand fast." he said and Natia froze in her position and locked her weapon into place as Agent Mortem smirked on the opposite side of the weapon.

" Good." he said and then took a few steps back, " Open range." Eyes moving to her right, she pointed the pistol forward again and let it straighten out as she held it in front of her towards where the tree line was. She imagined the enemy running through that tree line, cracking their bullets, their glares forcing suns to set, their eyes like an angry lions ready to pounce. She imagined what it'd be like to put a bullet straight through them and clean right out. 

For a moment instead she saw a black figure amongst the leaves, a cloak covering its features, eyes watching her own, studying her, watching her every move like it was some sort of game. Natia's gaze narrowed. The pistol, in mere seconds, was slowly turned upon the figure across the field. 

And in an instance, as if it were impulse she fired the weapon, a loud crack of approval ringing out across the open sky. The smoke dripped from her weapon like froth as she was slow to lower it back to her side again.

" What happened to logical thinking?" questioned Agent Mortem, knowing with just a few words he'd be inside her head again.

" I thought I saw something." she said, her eyes narrowed on the playing field, scoring the tree line again, harder this time, yearning to catch sight of whatever had originally gotten her attention in the first place.

" And your first instinct was to shoot it - it could've been a citizen." Natia turned to him, her eyes narrowed.

" In war it won't be." she said coldly, before shoving the pistol, quite harshly, into his grasp and stepping around him, feet pushing her back towards the door to the building again and back to the awaiting chessboard. 

Agent Mortem couldn't help but smirk, a rising grin poking the corners of his face as he glanced back out towards the tree line. Death's hooded face peaked out yet again from behind the tree and kept his eye on the young woman trudging up to the lodge again. Death's gaze carried to Mortem again who stood, smirking wider and wider. Death merely dipped his head and shuffled back into the bushes, his jaw clenching at the sight of the Agent of Death up near the home. 

Someone almost died that day, one of the two atop the hill, looking down at the tree line, watching Death himself reappear. 

The killer would've been the one with the gun.

**_September 28th, 1944 - Uden, Holland - 0800_ **

**_3 days after Operation Market-Garden ended_ **

She didn't sleep last night and it wasn't from the pounding rain that hammered the company as they lay in their foxholes that night. It was more the pounding inside her mind, like secret sections were being unlocked and she had no clue how to access them. But it was also the fact she couldn't get Sergeant Toye's face from her mind. 

The way he had stood and watched her for a moment like she was a helpless child again, like he had seen right through the act she tried so hard to put up. Like he understood. 

But how was she supposed to feel when all she was, was a weapon of war, used by War himself like a pawn - she wasn't supposed to feel things, like the guilt which poured inside her heart. 

_Weapons didn't weep._

Agent Mortem had told her that. 

That morning she found herself sitting beside Johnny by the food line, the tin in her hands almost nothing, the slight scent of warmed food barely reaching her nose, as her eyes remained coldly set forward. 

But Johnny didn't take a particular interest either, sitting wordlessly by her side, staring at almost the same spot she stared at. 

8 days she had avoided him, and now he sat by her side like it was the 100th time he'd done it.

" You got a signal yet, Fidel?" Johnny had asked her, as the question rose through her ear and stopped. _No_ \- she hadn't. It had been 10 days without a signal - far too many days that could even exist without one. She was dead to them - her friends and family - just like the rest of them.

" No." she answered, " No...I haven't." Johnny watched her, before nodding and letting his head hang. 

" I'm sure you will." Johnny said as Natia glanced towards him weakly and nodded. Her gaze then transfixed in front of her again.

" What will you do when war is over?" Natia asked Johnny - she didn't wish to continue speaking about the radio signal. The hope was nearly lost at this point, she'd have to fight her way back in for what it was worth. Johnny glanced her way, watching her steadily - she didn't look back. She didn't need to.

" Head back home to my wife, try and figure what's next. Get back to my railroad job, I guess." Johnny told her. Natia squinted a bit in the sunlight and glanced towards him gently.

" You're married?" she asked Johnny and Johnny smiled, a soft smile, as he seemingly thought back to his wife in that moment, covered in dirt, sweat ad mud, half way across the world.

" To the most beautiful woman I know." Johnny told her and Natia couldn't help but feel the corners of her tight-lipped grin soften a bit as she watched Johnny smile gently, nodding, " Pat....gorgeous brown eyes, big smile. What I'd give to see her again." Natia watched Johnny let out a sigh and glance down to his tin, wordlessly and in evident homesickness.

" You will." Natia said and Johnny looked up towards her as she watched him softly, " I know it." The wind whistled a bit by their ears as they watched each other. Johnny smiled softly at her, and for a moment it was just her and Johnny, sitting on a bench, like it was by a town park, having a conversation that was for once not about the war. But her reality hit when her boots squished in the muddy ground and she was still in Uden, Holland.

" You still have hope?" Johnny asked her and Natia watched him.

" No." she answered quickly, shaking her head, looking down at her tin of food, " No...I don't think I ever will have hope again. Hope doesn't want me. It wants you guys though, Easy. And I know you have yet to lose it. I can see it in your eyes." Johnny watched her, noticing the reflective glint in her eyes that looked back at him.

" You don't seem like someone to lose hope." Johnny told her quietly and Natia let out a sigh, feeling her shoulders drop and shook her head.

" War exposes those things." she said quietly, glancing towards him and Johnny sighed, watching her. Their eyes watched one another for a brief moment, before footsteps came bursting through the grass and muddy pits towards them. Natia looked up and saw it was Sergeant Guarnere and her eyes narrowed. Her grip on the canteen tightened as he approached and she didn't miss the way he met her eyes.

" They're sending out a patrol, Johnny." Sergeant Guarnere said as he came up on the duo sat on the log side by side.

" Already?" Johnny said, not failing to send a glance to Natia beside him who stared up at Sergeant Guarnere with cold set eyes. 

8 days of avoiding him, she had only wished it had been longer.

" Yeah, seems like, boss's word." Sergeant Guarnere said, his gaze moving over to the shadowed gaze of the Agent. Johnny stood up and within seconds Natia was on her feet as well looking at the two.

" I'm joining you." she said stiffly as Sergeant Guarnere's face twisted to a contortion of sorts at her words and she tried not to smirk at the distaste on his face.

" No the hell you're not." Sergeant Guarnere said as her gaze narrowed.

" Yes, I am." she pushed. Their eyes were met in fire, gazes locked on one another like predator and prey, as Johnny stood looking between the two, his own gaze narrowing further and further.

" Agent Fidel, Captain Winters gave me orders and you were not-"

" Yes, understood, Sergeant Guarnere." she said, stopping him in his tracks almost immediately. She knew that orders were orders, but in war, disruption was bigger than that. She wanted to be on that patrol.

" There a problem?" a voice said and the trio turned to see one of the other NCOS - she knew him by his height, similarly to Bull - Sergeant Charles Grant, the one who was armed with a bazooka for battle and worked closely with Sergeant Guarnere as well as Sergeant Talbert. She remembered them in the company of the resident sniper, a certain Sergeant Darrell Powers, whom she had heard people call Shifty. 

Sergeant Powers and her had held an intense gaze on the battlefield when she had offered to cover for him in Veghel. Instead of trusting her instincts, he had tore off on a different route, leaving her behind in the dust, a scowl on her features.

" Nothing at all, Sergeant." Natia said coolly as Sergeant Grant noticed the woman now, not another replacement he had assumed was causing the issue.

" Agent Fidel." Sergeant Grant said and she nodded firmly.

" The patrol that's been planned, I'm joining." she confirmed to him, causing his eyebrows to rise as he held a silent conversation with Sergeant Guarnere.

" CO's picked who's going on patrol, Agent, and you're not one of 'em."

" Well, consider me volunteering and saving one more of your sorry-asses." she said, stepping up to face, " I'll take one of the younger one's place. Gladly." 

Sergeant Grant watched her, trying to comprehend her and understand her, this woman whom he had spoken a solid 5 words to previously, now willingly throwing herself in front of fire for their company. 

What was she getting at? 

What was she hoping to accomplish with this? 

What was she doing this for? 

Truth be told, she had seen the young in war, especially in Warsaw, and seeing the fear War created like magic in their eyes, hurt her more than anything, and she willed that the same uneasy gazes would not appear in these replacements. 

" Tell Heffron that he's off then," Sergeant Grant told her as she narrowed her eyes on him, " he'll be happy to hear." Her eye twitched.

" I bet." she answered and then stepped immediately around them, moving forward.

" You don't even know who that is!" Sergeant Guarnere said stepping forward as she glanced back over her shoulder back towards them.

" You all seem to answer to your names, I hardly believe I will have trouble with that, Sergeant." she called back, before turning and glowering forward again, eyes remaining narrowed. Her eyes searched for the scrawniest members of the company - she seemed to put the two together - she wasn't proud that she did, but in most cases it worked. Her eyes found a nearby foxhole of two men, singing a rather annoying tune together, their scratchy voices already an annoyance - even at 0830.

" Is all you Americans do is sing?" she said standing over their foxhole, gaze narrowed on them as the sun beat on her back. The two men looked up, stopping their cheerful voices to glance up to the source of the sound.

" Jesus Christ," the one said, " I thought you were Speirs."

" Be lucky I'm not." she answered back and his gaze was quick to narrow, " I'm looking for a Heffron, you two jolly peacocks seem like you'll have a clue."

" Thick with the sarcasm are we?" the other said and Natia recognized the voice almost immediately and set her eyes on him.

" What were you expecting?" she said and the second she met his eyes, her gaze hardened. And so did his.

" Agent Fidel." the man said, a growing smirk on his lips, as a chuckle left his lips, " Hey Alley, this is the chick I was talking about, that Agent we adopted 8 days back - learned how to walk on your two feet yet-" Natia was already down on her knees, grabbing him by the front of his collar and pulling him to her face, staring him down, eyes locked in on his face - how fast he breathed, the way his eyes stared intensely at hers, the frustration that turned his brown eyes black, and the dirt that crusted with the sweat across his features.

" The asshole from the streets of Eindhoven clearly hasn't changed his attitude has he?" she spat and the man glared at her.

" Why? Were you expecting me to?" he said and she glared.

" Joe back off alright." 'Alley' said, " Heffron's down a-ways, you'll see him, red hair, kinda like Malarkey." Natia was quick to drop the man from the streets of Eindhoven and turned to face Alley. A slight grumble from the man she dropped was a signal that she had dropped him hard enough back into the foxhole to make it hurt.

" Where?" Natia asked quickly and Alley was quick to point behind him.

" A few foxholes down, hangs around Guarnere a lot."

" Shit."

" Don't sound so upset about that, princess, I'm sure he gets quite the kick out of you." the other man said and Natia turned her gaze on him.

" How about you just learn when to keep your mouth shut...."

" Joseph Liebgott."

" Joseph Liebgott." she spat, filling in his name to finish her sentence, with an angry spat. Joseph smirked.

" Never learned, ma'am and never will." he said and she glared, before standing to her feet eventually. Natia nodded to Alley in thanks before looking to Joseph.

" Maybe you should then." she said before stalking away without so much as a 'good day'. Alley turned and looked to Joseph who snickered quietly to himself and quirked a brow up.

" She could tear you tooth from limb you know." Alley said and Joseph let out a 'pfft' shaking his head, as he wiped the sweat from his forehead.

" Let her do it then," spat Joseph, " she's not apart of this fucking company anyway, she'll be too much of a wimp to." Alley watched Joseph and shrugged.

" I don't know, maybe she could be of help, she took out that tank a few days ago all by herself." Alley told her as he scowled.

" I'm pretty sure any of these guys could've done the same." Joseph said, " Maybe now if we sing loud enough, we can annoy her even more." Alley had to smirk at that a bit as Joseph chuckled. 

Natia's feet moved quickly through the grass as she came upon the foxhole with the red-head with hair similar to Malarkey as well as Captain Winters.

" Heffron." she stated firmly and immediately the group in the foxhole were looking up towards the source of the voice. 

" Oh...Agent Fidel." Heffron said - she knew who he was, Private Edward Heffron, the guys all called him Babe though, he was the one she had bumped into back about a week or so - he stared up at her with wide eyes, unsure of what to say to the woman who stood above him.

" I'm in your spot for the patrol scheduled for today, I figured you ought to know." she told him and Heffron watched her, almost nervously and gulped a bit uneasily.

" Really?" he asked her and she nodded.

" I'm filling in." she told him and he just nodded, avoiding her eye contact and back down at the open K-ration within his grasp that he had.

" Thanks." His response was quiet - and it was also evident that he didn't want to talk much further and Natia wouldn't force him, so she just nodded and moved away, her feet carrying her farther and farther from the foxhole of quiet replacements that then watched her move away with an equal intensity. 

Natia stalked away, her fists clenched at her side, the wrap that Doc Roe had changed dutifully multiple times now dirtied by war and vengeance, as well as blood. There was always blood. 

Natia could see the group heading out on patrol assembling nearby, cackling, joking around, passing a few lit cigarettes between one another in the early morning. 

Her Thompson bounced on her back and with each step towards the patrol, she felt less like the Polish citizen of Wola, Warsaw, Poland that she was and more and more like the American soldier she was hiding out to be. 

There it was again, the itching for the pistol, just to feel the grasp of the metal there in her palm, but she had to restrain from it, from it all. 

To her dismay, she noticed Captain Winters standing there talking to Lieutenant Welsh, along with a portion of Easy behind the duo gearing up. Lieutenant Welsh seemed to whisper something to Captain Winters as she approached and the two turned to face her.

" Agent Fidel." Captain Winters said as she approached and she narrowed her eyes at the tone of his voice.

" Sir." she said, not entirely oblivious to the looks from the members of the patrol that slung arrows at her it felt, piercing her body through the iris, were currently giving her. Captain Winters watched her with a sense of calm within his gaze, as she noticed Lieutenant Welsh watching her - her gaze remained on Captain Winters.

" You're not on patrol, you can take the morning off." Captain Winters told her, using the motion of leaning his head towards her to express it so.

" I just told Private Heffron that he deserves the morning off more than I do, so I actually volunteered to go, sir." Natia told him and Captain Winters watched her, biting back his lip briefly as he glanced towards Lieutenant Welsh. Lieutenant Welsh seemed to nod, hesitantly, maybe slightly understandingly as Captain Winters cleared his throat and looked to her again.

" Alright, you're on it then." Captain Winters said and Natia coolly nodded in his direction. With a wise look in his eye, he looked past her.

" You got your radio?" he asked her and Natia immediately reached for the strap, thinking it would be here. She swallowed.

" Give me 5 seconds, it's back at my foxhole." she said an Captain Winters watched he steadily.

" Alright, you're dismissed, move quickly. We need to move out soon." Captain Winters told her and Natia nodded slowly towards him. 

Without as much of a glance towards Lieutenant Welsh, she had already moved off to quickly retrieve the radio that laid beside George's, having previously been covered by rain in her poncho that was drying out. 

The second Natia approached the foxhole, George was lying out, sunglasses flipped over his eyes as the sun seemed to warm his body.

" George." Natia called, her voice a bit more firm than she had hopped it would be. George looked up from briefly from his lounging position and smirked before sitting up fully and looking at her.

" What's up, Flip." he said, reaching up briefly to run a hand through his hair as Natia crouched down to slide into the foxhole.

" Patrol." she answered as she landed in the drying mud and quickly whipped the poncho off her radio, mumbling under her breath a bit.

" As battered as you are, still looking shiny." Natia said to herself as she inspected the little radio. Popping his head over the edge to look down at her, George cocked his head.

" Please tell me I heard you right - you said patrol?" George questioned her as Natia situated the radio onto her back with a slight 'hmph' and adjusted slowly.

" That's right." she answered before pulling herself up and out of the pit to the high ground, adjusting herself the best she could. George slowly stood, watching as her once nimble fingers now raced with evident struggle and recklessness on the rise and sighed.

" Here, come here." he said and began adjusting the straps for her as she stood, watching him with a raised brow as George smirked to himself, fiddling with the straps a bit before getting a grip.

" How the hell did you end up on patrol?" George asked her as he tightened the strap a bit. Natia sighed.

" I wanted to go." she said shrugging her shoulders as George gave her a look to stop moving around like a child.

" Why?" George asked her. Natia looked up at her only companion.

" What else is there to do?" Natia asked and George quite literally chuckled at her words.

" Damn, you're fun to be around." George said and Natia couldn't help but smirk the slightest bit at that comment.

" It's true." she said, " I'd rather get one step closer to ending this hellish war than sit on my ass back here."

" No need to call me out like that." George muttered clipping down the final strap as Natia smirked briefly.

" Right," she said before looking to him, " I got two cents for you."

" Already using my phrase I see - shoot." Natia smirked - she in fact was. Another newly learned American phrase, this time from George himself.

" Tell Joseph Liebgott to kindly fuck off." Natia said, " Him and his mouth would get him in trouble if he was back in Warsaw."

" That's just Joe for ya."

" Yeah well, seems like an asshole."

" You just gotta get used to him, he's a fun guy."

" Yeah? When does the fun start?" George smirked at her comment before looping the helmet on her head like he had before, becoming fond of gently placing the helmet on her head in these past few days, a simple gesture, a tender and kind one, that gave a simple message that let her know he at least was there.

" Thanks." she said, albeit, saying thanks, when being accustomed to keeping the lips shut and eyes forward, was nice to say. She felt something when she uttered those words. George smirked.

" Yeah, you got it," he said before turning and lying back down in the sun, " don't get hurt."

" Thanks for the words of praise." she called back to him and George let out a chuckle. 

With a tiny smile, she turned, radio on her back, Thompson hanging at her shoulder and helmet situated on her head, back towards where the patrol ultimately would end up being. Her eyes were able to register Sergeant Lipton there, she could see him moving amongst the men, with his gentle reassuring pats on their backs, encouraging words and nods, and almost a sort of light in the darkness enigma about him. But once the mens' gazes began to become fixated on her only then did Sergeant Lipton then fully turn to face her.

" Agent Fidel." Sergeant Lipton said and Natia offered a small nod in his direction as Lieutenant Welsh looked over from where he was currently, seemingly, offering instructions to none other than Sergeant Guarnere himself. She could easily pick out any of the guys within this patrol - Sergeant Grant had made a reappearance, along with the mortar squad - Malarkey and Skip, as well as their one friend Penkala - he had said his name was Alex. There was a machine gun duo that had put Natia off within the 5th day of this hell hole, Smokey Gordon and Alton More, they stood off to the side, passing a cigarette back and forth and sending glances towards the Agent who was slowly approaching.

" Hi, Lip." she said as she approached and Lip smiled softly at her, his kind eyes never straying from her own and almost automatically settling the build up of tension that filled her system, previously.

" How you feeling?" he asked her, as Natia side eyed Lieutenant Welsh for a brief moment as he watched her as well along with Sergeant Guarnere, " I was hoping you and George, along with the radios, held out last night." Natia forced a tiny smile and nodded.

" Okay," she said with a nod, before pointing back to the radio on her back, " didn't fill with rain water so I guess that's a positive there." Lip chuckled softly and then nodded his head in the direction of the guys.

" C'mon, we'll be moving out soon." Lip told her as she took up a pace beside him, her eyes trailing back to Lieutenant Welsh and Sergeant Guarnere. Natia's eyes narrowed and the glare of her brown eye seemed to be enough to send them looking in the opposite direction.

" Alright, boys," Lip called as Natia cast her gaze around the group, briefly catching Malarkey's eyes, where a small smile bloomed on his lips once he saw her there. She tried for a smile, but it came out more of a pained grimace if anything. Malarkey didn't drop his grin.

" We're set for patrol, mainly to see if there's any remaining German forces around - we move out tomorrow." Lip explained.

" Yeah, we don't need any of those Krauts up our ass, don't we Lip?" More decided to call out, making a few of the guys around chuckle a bit. Natia's facade remained frozen, as her eyes looked up to Lip as he chuckled to slightest bit.

" Got that right. So, we understand? We move quick, we're in and out, we're done, okay?" Lip explained.

" Alright," he said once he saw everyone's nods, " let's move out."

" Thank you Sergeant Lipton," Lieutenant Welsh said stepping forward," fall in!"

" Yes, sir!" the voices called back as Natia stood idly by Lip's side, watching the men falling in behind one another, their chatter rattling her ears in the sunlight and the quiet chirp of the morning crickets suddenly disappearing as they moved off. Lip glanced at her as she stood by his side, her eyes trailing after them.

" Here you can walk with me," Lip said, " Lieutenant Welsh's leading the group, we'll take up the rear."

" Alright," Natia said as she began walking by Lip's side, more comfortable with him, a few steps back from the group and not intermixed with who was in front of her.

" I'd rather have someone like you anyway back here, you'd see the Germans from miles away wouldn't ya?" Lip said and Natia couldn't help but smirk a bit.

" I'd like to think that it's a possibility." she concluded to him and Lip chuckled glancing towards her again under the sun which seemed to take him in like he was one of the rays coming down from above.

" Then I'm glad you're here on our side," Lip said as Natia smiled, a bit sadly if she was being honest with herself and Lip seemed to notice. 

Gently placing a hand on her shoulder, he gave it a gentle squeeze and for the first time, Natia didn't tremble under the comforting touch of another. She met his eyes and it spoke what words it could that could never leave his lips. She'd get home soon, to her side of the war, she had to, Lip knew it too - he knew she missed them, the people she had started this war with. It was only right she finished the war with them too. 

With a gentle nod, Lip lead the woman forward, the gentle hand on her shoulder a comfortable presence she didn't realize she had needed until now. Because she was treated for once like a woman, not another soldier of War, a war machine wired up to fight his battles, no, Lip saw through that all and treated her for who she was. And that comfort was a comfort that made her heart warm, and a small smile bloom on her lips, to know that there was someone else there that maybe for a second had let her know with a simple touch, that they were there for her.

And that was enough in that moment of time. 

｡↷ ✧*̥₊˚‧☆ﾐ

H I S T O R I C A L N O T E S

No important historical notes for this chapter! 

A / N 

_HELLO!!! I was planning a double update this week, but settled for a double update next week, as with the chapters, I felt it would be more fitting! And it would flow better! BUT this chapter I just love (okay I love all my chapters HAHA!) but we get some good interactions, especially with Natia + Johnny, Lip and George! I would say they are pretty important ones too! The ones with Lieb, Bill and Chuck....maybe not so much - you'll see lol!! AND AGENT MORTEM! Boy, is his chaos only just the start of it all!! Next week's chapters dig into some pretty important stuff - mentally, physically and emotionally for Natia specifically and all a warning I can give is - it's only the beginning! :D Thank you to everyone who's been reading and supporting the fic! It's meant a lot to me more than anything! Enjoy and happy reading!_


	29. A Loss At War's Mercy

“If you know the enemy and know yourself, you need not fear the result of a hundred battles. If you know yourself but not the enemy, for every victory gained you will also suffer a defeat. If you know neither the enemy nor yourself, you will succumb in every battle.”

_― Sun Tzu, The Art of War_

｡↷ ✧*̥₊˚‧☆ﾐ

_**September 28th, 1944** _

_**Uden, Holland** _

_**0900** _

_**3 days after Operation Market-Garden ended** _

The sun was beginning to leave it's mark on her neck when she felt the burn was no longer just her shoulders from the weight of the heavy radio. And so were the bugs - Warsaw had never had this many bugs - maybe Death hadn't left his mark here quite yet. It hadn't chased them away. 

Lip walked quietly beside her, eyes, similar to her own, moving across the entirety of the area around them whenever he could. Supposedly movement from the South West had sparked the patrol and it was suggested that it was the Nazis returning after their retreat from Veghel that had been incited. Natia's mind lay in a rather hampered wreck, between the spinning, the dehydration, and a various amount of memories that threatened to spill.

" You know," Lip said from beside her, causing her to quickly look over towards him with squinted eyes under the sunlight, " I think I remember hearing...uh, Captain Winters saying we're moving out to a place called Wijchen, tomorrow, if I heard him right."

" Wijchen...." Natia said letting her tongue get used to the way it sounded, " must be Northeast of here."

" Must be, supposedly to get us moving closer to Arnhem, they've been engaged in some sorta endless battle since Market-Garden started." explained Lip, briefly wiping the bead of sweat from his forehead, a turn from the bitter rain of last night.

" Which means, the closer we get to Arnhem, maybe we get one step closer to possibly getting you home." Lip said softly watching the emotion in her eyes change in a mix of waves it seemed. Natia bit back her lip and for a moment, she wasn't sure if it was sweat or tears in her eyes. 

Home. 

Home had never been a place for her, _no_ , the Nazis had taken that the minute they decided Poland was not worthy for them, destroying her home, her family, and her sense of hope. 

Home was always simply a feeling, and it was now one that disappeared. 

And with Lip right beside her, she wanted to tell him more than anything, why she felt this way. She wanted him to tell her why it ached so much in her heart. But no one could ever explain, not even herself, why she felt the pain she did. She felt she would never be able to explain how painful it felt to bear it.

" Yeah." she answered with a nod, as her throat ran dry suddenly, and her heart rate picked up a bit. Lip glanced her way as they walked.

" You'll see them again, whoever you were with, I know you will, alright?" Lip said softly, a gentle smile on his lips as he watched her with kind eyes. Natia nodded, trying to contain whatever emotions managed to swallow her hole.

" Down! Down! Down!" a voice suddenly yelled, and within seconds, Lip's hand was on her shoulder and pushing her down to the ground, where her face hit the Earth, the scent of soil filtering into her nose within seconds.

" Get to the tree line!" Lip yelled from beside her, his voice straining over the sudden explosion of gunfire that echoed from the South. Natia was hauled up with help from Lip, her feet carrying her and the radio across the majority of the open field towards the scattered tree line, as sweat trickled down her cheeks, her eyes dead set on the trees of the surrounding forest and the beat in which she ran to, from the boots which hit the Earth with an unmistakable force. One after the other. 

Natia slid into the tree line with ease, moving up behind a tree, slamming the radio against the bark with a force she was sure had near shattered it to pieces and peaked her head around the corner slowly to get a view of where ever the shooting was coming from.

For a moment, it was like Agent Mortem was beside her, guiding her, talking about the ability to pick your enemy out from far away, what to look for. 

And she did, she saw them, all along the tree line, moving out, firing shots, mortar squads and fine weaponry. Natia narrowed her gaze as Sergeant Guarnere came crashing in beside her, slamming behind the same exact tree as her, panting, as he shoved his helmet up from his forehead to glance around the tree.

" Mortars!" Sergeant Guarnere called as Natia slowly pulled the Thompson from her shoulder and brought the weapon up to her eye, situating it just right in front of her, clicking her gear before her finger danced on the trigger. And each and every shot she took hit someone, one after the next, a sporadic display of gunfire firing out across, towards the enemy, decorating their once medal covered chest in Death's passage. Anger was ridden behind the bullets fired, each and every single one.

And Natia had no fear of how they felt, no guilt, no remorse for what the enemy would expect from her hand at the weapon - she had felt their anger and their power long enough. 

There was something patting her shoulder though, distracting her from evidently her work on firing the fine weapon that was in her grasp. Whipping her head around she found Lieutenant Welsh beside her.

" Get CP on the line!" he yelled and Natia was quick to make a show of swinging the Thompson onto her shoulder and pulling the radio up, with the phone to her ear.

" Easy CP!" she called through, " Easy CP, over!"

" Easy red, over!" Natia shoved the phone forward, to a seemingly shocked Lieutenant Welsh who, she supposed, had not expected it to be that quick. But he took the radio and began talking quickly into the phone, his voice drowned out by the bullets from the enemy. She glanced to her right and saw Sergeant Guarnere, firing shot after shot, his face contorted up as his body held with each shot. Her gaze carried further down towards where the mortar crew was, popping off mortar after mortar, yelling out coordinates with each spitfire shot. Within seconds the phone was shoved back into her hands as Lieutenant Welsh stood to his feet.

" Alright, boys, we're holding here, goal is to push them back as far as we can with what we got!" Lieutenant Welsh called, running down along the line of resistance force pushed against the slaughter of Nazi bullets. Sergeant Guarnere slammed down against her side again, and Natia was quick to look towards him as she put the phone to her ear. 

The two seemed to freeze in time, as he stared at her, the push of bullets around them flying high and flying fast. His eyes went to the cut on her cheek, freshly bleeding. Her eyes read one story, while the open cheek wound said something else. Sergeant Guarnere squinted. 

But before he could open his mouth at the fresh wound, she had pushed up and was running down the length of the line of men towards where Lieutenant Welsh was. She collapsed down by another tree and landed on her stomach as she brought the Thompson up in front of her body and narrowed her sights. 

Firing the Thompson was like firing her old Polish Submachine and for a moment it was like she was back in her zone, shooting the enemy of the streets of Warsaw, jumping through rubble, pushed up against buildings, grenades thrown by her own hand, sending a tank up in flames - it was like it was normal for a split second.

" Johanson, he's still out there!" a voice suddenly called, snapping Natia out of her gunfire for a moment to meet the frantic eyes of Malarkey on the mortar as he popped it in.

" Saw him down and thought he would make a run for it, I don't think he did - he's out near one of the hay barrels!" Skip called again as Lieutenant Welsh clambered in by her side, the helmet casted down over his eyes, darkening his gaze.

" What did you say?" Lieutenant Welsh called again, just as another mortar popped off.

" Private Johanson, sir!" Penkala called, " He's still out there!"

" Shit," Lieutenant Welsh said, taking the phone from Natia's radio and pulling up to his ear in a matter of minutes as she froze, meeting the frantic eyes of the mortar team a few yards down. 

Natia glanced towards the rest of the line that was managing to hold with what firing they could, Sergeant Grant taking his rounds on his Bazooka cleanly as he did so. They could hold. But Natia refused to be on another mission where someone died and she was there - because right now she could do something about it. She didn't want another person to die in a war when they could be saved. Natia gritted her teeth and looked to Skip again.

" Where'd you say he was!" Natia called towards him, stripping the radio from her back as she did so, flinging the Thompson to the ground as Lieutenant Welsh watched her with a raised brow.

" Excuse me-"

" Where'd you say he was, c'mon!" Natia said as she strapped her helmet tighter to her head and crouched by the tree with nothing but a will to fight as her weapon.

" You don't have a weapon." _I am one_ , she nearly wanted to tell him, but she held her tongue with Malarkey. He watched as she tapped the pistol at her side with a smirk. When she got reckless, the smirk came out and so did the confidence.

" Where?" she demanded of Skip.

" By the hay bail, back that ways a bit, but I don't think there's much coverage-"

" Fine by me!" she called and shot up like a bullet.

" Hey! Agent Fidel, get back here!" Lieutenant Welsh called to her, but if she was honest, it went in one ear and out the other as she let her little legs carry her the length of the force of resistance held up against the enemy, her eyes scooping out the hay bails through the trees and automatically detouring towards them.

As she came upon the tree line, she crouched down beside a tree, her eyes narrowed as she found the body, lying still by a hay bail - she sensed the liquid around him was the blood pouring from him, consequently, a bullet wound she surmised. 

With a final glance back at the men, she took off on a route that didn't lead her straight through enemy fire - they were focused on the Bazooka and the fellow mortar team - she could make this work. But if she were back home, she would've done the same for any Resistance member out in the line of fire - this wasn't normal for the Americans, but for her it was, and if anything to keep her sane, she would remain as normal as normal could be. Natia picked her way through the grass, and collapsed behind the first hay bail, before rolling behind another one, heaving heavy breaths of the sun-warmed straw at her back. The bugs were getting quite annoying by now she had to admit, as her head turned and she saw Johnason lying by the hay bail, still heavily unconscious. 

Natia clenched her jaw and set her sights of the man, before leaping up. Her quick gate carried her across the bit of field towards him and by the time she arrived there, she collapsed by his side, and made quick work of gathering his body in such a way that carrying him would be easy. She thanked the Resistance in her mind for the strength it had physically provided her usually tiny body with. O

f course, proper eating was not something Natia was keen on doing and her body had lacked from it - rib exposure, sunken in cheeks, darkened eye circles, and morning weakness that she tried not to show to anyone. But she ignored it because the war was far greater. The build up of muscle mass she had, had taken her this far. 

Natia hauled the body onto her back, as sweat and blood created a mixture together and she hauled the body the best she could, upwards. The body needed to get back to Easy, she refused to see the look on their faces again like when they had changed for Sergeant Randleman. His body, though not dead, felt like a dead weight as she hauled the body forward towards the hay bail. She didn't recognize the labor intensive expense she was putting on her body - her labored breathing, her panting, the sweat, the stars in her eyes, the blood that replaced the sweat at this point coming from the body on her back, the cut on her cheek, dribbling down like fresh tears, but instead a reminder of the hit she had taken once she slammed down onto the ground. 

But it was just like she were in Warsaw again, fighting for each baited breath - for a moment she was back in that moment of time, but the bullet whizzing past her ear was enough to keep her focused hurrying forward.

" Lip!" her vocal chords ripped out the brash word from her lips as she hurried towards the line of resistance, " I got him! Johanson, I got him!" From her level of eyes, she watched Lip push up from his position beside one of the men to hurry towards where she was coming. Lip's eyes were widened slightly seeing the woman stumble with the body on her back, briefly fumbling over her feet as she clambered in behind the line.

" Hey, hey, hey..." Lip said, shouldering his Thompson to reach forward to help the unconscious body from her shoulders and gently to the ground. The two crouched by the body as the sounds of war remained down through the tree line.

" You're bleeding." Lip said, slightly out of breath as Natia glanced towards him, sucking in a slight shaky breath as she nodded.

" Nothing I'm not used to." she said glancing back towards where the fire fight occurred between the two sides. Sucking in another breath, Lip watched her.

" How much longer you think we can hold up here?" she asked him, " Ammo will run out first, and then so will stamina - and with morale already on the low, it seems these men won't want to hold out much longer. And the enemy I have no doubt will begin to see that weakness." Natia watched as Lip licked his lips and then glanced back towards the men, where evident exhaustion seemed to overtake a majority of them like ghosts. He turned to look back at her.

" You read the field well." he told her and Natia was slow in nodding.

" 5 years..." she said weakly, and tried to cover it up for clearing her throat in a way," I've seen what the enemy has done to my friends, and I was tired of watching it happen. Studying them has brought me here." Lip watched her and then cleared his throat, glancing at the rest of the men.

" Get your radio and your weapon," Lip told her," we're gonna move out."

" Wait, what about Johanson, we gotta get him back." she said to him watching worry fill Lip's eyes.

" How fast can you run?"

***

Natia, along with the help of Lip, carried Johanson into the lodging area for Easy Company, as the patrol moved away from their positions to the south of Uden.

" Medic!" Lip called, his yell echoing out where a majority of the men lay out under in foxholes, and where the last remnants of British tanks remained with some of the last few officers of Easy Company. Heads were turned in the direction of the retreating patrol, as Lieutenant Welsh came bringing up the rear away from the secluded forest.

" We need a medic over here!" called Lieutenant Welsh, as Natia and Lip were quick to lower Johanson to the ground, as Lieutenant Welsh came around Lip's side and crouched by the man's head, his unconscious being lying still in the broad daylight, as the wind whistled through the trees. Natia looked up, her eyes searching for a medic, but she saw no one - where was the medic?

" Hey! Where's the goddamn medic!" she snapped, her eyes catching on the officers who made a move to approach the group on the ground as the patrol quickly filtered forward, eventually slowing as they watched Natia, Lip and Lieutenant Welsh crouch around the man. Natia grunted and looked to Johanson's slightly pale face, his softly parted lips and sweat soaked hair. Natia's gaze narrowed.

" Where is the medic?!" she called, snapping her eyes up to meet the silenced group of officers, as the patrol slowly let themselves breath, watching quietly as Natia glanced around. Eyes with faded expression and lost hope met her own, as she slowly turned back to face Lieutenant Welsh who watched her. He licked his lips glancing toward Lip briefly, who sat back on his hunches and let out a sigh.

" We won't be needing a medic." Lieutenant Welsh said quietly, as Natia's heart dropped, turning her stomach sour inside of her, pushing back from the body at her feet. 

Footsteps came from where the foxholes were, but Natia didn't have the heart to look up as she saw Doc Roe push through the tiny sliver of crowd that had encircled the group. His face fell a bit at the sight - he tried not to show it, but she could see past that. She saw past her own falling of her face whenever she took time to watch the monster in the mirror growl at the sight. She knew Doc Roe was attempting to cover it up with a stone cold expression. She saw the way the ice grew over his features. She knew because she did the same thing. 

The group remained in silence for a few moments, almost like a silent prayer for the dead and soon to be. 

Death watched from afar, fingers interlocked in front of himself, hanging lowly down in front of him, as his eyes averted to the ground, blackened hood hanging down and around his face - he couldn't bare to look upon his work. Like an artist, he was supposed to look upon it proudly, but if anything it was horrific to even think that. And watching the young woman whom he'd kept his eye on for years by now, stay frozen cold this time too, he wished he could reverse this, but death was irreversible for everyone. 

Natia swallowed softly - for a moment, they were not soldiers, the Americans in their Olive Drab, covered in sweat and blood, no, and she was not an Agent programmed like a monster, no, they were neither - they were humans for that moment of time, mourning another human's death that had been at that moment of time, inescapable. The blood was warm on her fingertips and it made her fall further into a cold state. 

Standing to her feet, she watched a few pairs of eyes move to her, but she ignored them as she looked upon Private Johanson. 

For a fleeting moment, she envisioned Ryzshard there and wondered if she would've felt different. She wondered if she would've broken and shattered like splintered wood, she wondered how long it would take to clatter to pieces. She wondered if it would've done a single thing or made even the slightest difference to the emotions that she felt now. Natia turned her head and then slowly pushed her way out of the circle of surrounding men. 

_Walk away._

_Walk away._

_Walk away,_ Natia. 

Her mind slipped those words through the feed inside her mind and it was the only thing keeping her moving and keeping herself upright in that moment. Because yet again, it was her fault. Deep down inside her chest, she felt it were her fault - she wasn't fast enough, she wasn't quick enough, she should've moved quicker, she should've acted faster. And another man was dead because of this stupid war. Another soul lost to uncontrolled chaos. A useless patrol, a horrid war - lost for War's mercies.

" Agent Fidel." a voice called and Natia could easily pick up on Captain Winters' voice - it could be a mile away, and she could still know that it was Captain WInters. It was odd though, this sort of mask he seemed to put up when he stood in front of her, speaking to her, giving orders and such. He spoke to her one way and spoke to the guys the other way. But it was because they didn't trust one another more than anything. And trust in war was of the essence, of the utmost importance. And yet it was in a drought currently. 

10 days and she still remained the evident outsider and by now she felt she always would be - at least to him. Invading his men, invading their orders, simply an invasion. She'd heard the men on various accounts, from word of mouth of a certain man named George Luz, when supposedly he'd be out 'shooting the shit' with Frank Perconte. They called her a distraction, from the real war - they didn't need a monster, a weapon like herself, intervening with their duty as soldiers. She was anything but what they needed to get through this war. She didn't care, she just wanted to get home. 

Natia slowly let herself turn to face Captain Winters and it was evident she felt within her features that the last thing she wished to do in that moment was discuss with Captain Winters whatever seemed to be biting at his mind.

" Sir." she said, a lazy nod, and an exhausted look in her eyes enough to make Captain Winters seem to reevaluate calling out to her in the first place.

" Lieutenant Welsh...he told me, something." Captain Winters said to her and Natia watched him.

" If I hadn't run out there in the first place, then there would've been no body to bring back here, sir, or to his family, his poor mother back in the States." Natia said, her English faltering to a slight Polish accent, as anger gripped her veins.

" I meant to come and thank you...for what you did for Private Johanson, actually, Agent Fidel." Captain Winters said and Natia looked up to his eyes for a moment," His family will still be able to receive his belongings because of what you did. I have to thank you myself for that." Natia watched him, trying to understand what he was doing, why he was doing this.

" I would do the same for anyone." she said," It's the right thing to do." Captain Winters watched her and titled his head to the side briefly as he did so.

" Agent-"

" I would do the same for anyone in this war, sir, I've seen what the war can do to people. I would do it for anyone." she said, crossing her arms and nodding, with a thin-lipped smile. She felt like she had to fight his word, like she had to assert it, but for once someone was thanking her. Actually thanking her for what she did.

" And I thank you for that, Agent." Captain Winters said," I do." Natia watched him, as if confused - he was thanking her. He was actually thanking her.

" From where I come from, you were taught ways to fight that are different than the way your soldiers are taught, sir." Natia said, her voice quiet for once, as it faded in and out of memories that she willed to just disappear for once. She shook her head and sighed, running a hand upon the back of her neck briefly.

" They've taught you well then, Agent."

" He still died, sir." she said quietly, her throat threatening to clench up - she was always the cause of all their deaths...always. Glancing up, she pushed the rim of her helmet from her eyes to meet the crystal blue of the Captain. She knew he lead each man like they were a son. Each death hurt.

" He will have not died in vain." the Captain told her as Natia felt her shoulders drop and her guard she held up trembled briefly. It was just like Zdzich, like Felicjan - like all of them, every single one. And yet she still stood. Why? 

The only thing keeping her alive was her resistance, this rebellion, the rebels that swarmed under the eyes of the enemy. She would not shut down that side of her, the only thing keeping her human. The way Captain Winters watched her looked as if he were pitying her entire being in that moment. Who wouldn't? 

With the blood on her cheek, the deranged look in her eye, the sweat and dirt creating a spectacle on her skin, she looked like a raging lunatic, a monster. She had to listen to Captain Winters' words, she had to take his word for it, yet the past 5 years and every single memory that had clogged her mind with pure grief sent her spiraling. Captain Winters seemed to notice her disorientation, the emotion in her eyes and the breaking off of her voice at the ends of her sentences.

" Get yourself cleaned up, we can talk later." Captain Winters said, and she knew the discomfort was getting to him. The discomfort of her and her current state. Natia forced herself to nod, holding herself, trying to keep the emotions inside rather than out for the world to see.

" Yes, sir." she choked out before turning and spinning away from him, moving quickly through the field of foxholes farther and farther away from the Captain. Her mind was getting to her, her training, her thoughts, all of it was finally catching up on her. She was tired of being a weapon on an invisible leash, of Agent Mortem still in her mind controlling her moves, acting like she was still training, still a mindless killer without a heart or a brain. 

But the tears that welled never fell - Agent Mortem had trained her to not show fear or vulnerability in the face of your enemy, even in the face of an ally, they weren't worthy of seeing your true self, no one was. 

But Natia didn't believe that for one second. Agent Mortem thought he had done well, he thought his mission was complete on the young girl he had weaponized - it had merely just begun. 

War was the stimulus. 

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H I S T O R I C A L N O T E S

> Currently none for this chapter!

A / N

_HELLO!! I hope you all are doing well! :D I was planning a two chapter update this week, but I've really looked at my chapters and plans and the next two chapters will be appropriate to place together more than anything! This chapter I felt we really saw some bits of the struggle Natia still faces, especially after the deaths of Zdzich and Felicjan, plus anything from the previous 5 years ALONG WITH Agent Mortem and what exactly he did to her. We're still digging into that, but we are really seeing it take shape and effect. Winters is thanking her and she can barely even take it - Natia's going through it truly :,( BUT -- I thank you all for reading and enjoying this chapter, I sure did. We finally got some action as well, especially from Natia. That time in Warsaw helps her quite a lot!! Thank you all for reading and look for the two chapter update next week! <3_


	30. A Change of Heart

"It is not the strongest of the species that survives, nor the most intelligent, but the one most responsive to change."

_― Leon C. Megginson_

｡‌↷‌ ‌✧*̥₊˚‧☆‌ﾐ‌ 

_**September 28th, 1944**_

_**Uden, Holland** _

**_1800_ **

**_3 days after Operation Market-Garden ended_ **

Sitting with her head in her hands on the ground, as her neck and back began to ache from its constant hunched-over position that began to become more bothersome than not, Natia felt as if they life was drained out of her. The morning patrol, which albeit it was her fault she felt this way, she had put herself there, had been quite the way to start off the morning. Followed by the death of Johanson right after and then suddenly Captain Winters thanking her for returning with the body. 

He had thanked _her_. 

_Her_. 

For what _she_ did.

And all she could feel was stupid guilt - because there she was again, another life cost, yet she still stood. How many more times in war would she have to relive a nightmare like that? 

The Olive Drab was slicked down to her form, baggy in some areas, but pinched in others and the sweat from the day was settling in along her forehead, making the poorly orchestrated bun of dark hair stick to her neck, frayed pieces stuck to her cheeks, even with the cover of night. The darkness did bring a chilly and slightly brisk wind, but Natia could barely focus on that as she looked at her fingertips again to where the blood was currently situated - dried, of course, but still there. A firm reminder of Johanson and his final moments under fire in a war that had already taken so much.

" Flip," a voice called and Natia barely had the energy to look up and meet George's eyes. She had been so upbeat leaving their foxhole, she even had a bit of energy in each retreating footstep away from the foxhole, yet upon return, she looked more dead than alive. 

Glancing upwards, Natia watched George slowly settle down on the grass beside her, a rag in his grasp, slightly wet from water she suspected and he let out a soft huff as he did so.

" Here," George motioned, holding the rag out in front of him for her," help ya clean some of that blood off of you." Natia pulled her head from her hands and briefly glanced to him. Forcing a slight smile on her face, partially weak looking she felt, she let her tense shoulders slump as she took the rag into her hands and softly pulled it to her face to press it against the few reopened scars where her blood and the dead's blood had mixed. She sighed at the soft presence of the cold rag against her skin, and peaked an eye open towards George.

" Thanks, George." she said quietly and George let the corner of his lip poke upward as he nodded gently.

" 'Course." he answered softly and Natia managed a slight smile again at the comforting presence he brought to even just bring her a cool rag.

" Looking good there, Agent." a voice called and Natia briefly shut her eyes, not only feeling a headache growing behind her eyes, but a pool of annoyance budding in her chest. 

Looking up past the rag, Natia found under the moonlight as Sergeant Grant waltzed towards her, hands shoved into his pockets as his helmet swung around upon his head. A wad of gum shone in his teeth and the growing smirk on his lips at the mere comment was enough to send her off the rails. But between the blood, the headache, the emotions - she was over it.

" Shut the fuck up, Chuck, she's not in the mood." George said, his tone brittle, riding on the side of annoyed and pissed and possibly another range of emotions she really hadn't heard George use before. Natia glanced at George who was looking up at Sergeant Grant, who came to a stop in front of the duo.

" You still defending her, Luz?" Sergeant Grant said, as if she weren't even there, as if she couldn't even hear him. He said it with a slight chuckle in his tone, as if it were some sort of joke and if anything it made her blood boil.

" Yeah because maybe if you actually sat down and listened to her, then you'd know why." George spat out with a clenched jaw, glancing up at Sergeant Grant," I know I wouldn't be throwing around comments like that." Natia looked from George to Sergeant Grant and watched as the NCO glanced at her briefly. Natia's focus returned to the cool rag pressed against her face as she sighed softly again.

" Agent Fidel." a voice called and Natia's eyes shot open as she looked forward and found Captain Nixon strolling towards her, a map in his hand, cigarette on his lip and a crease upon the brow, one of uncertainty and tension as he neared her. 

Natia rose to her feet, pulling the rag from her face as she held it in her clenched fist beside her, hoping that she didn't clench her fist too far as to turn the rag red. George and Sergeant Grant faced the Captain, performing their salute, but the Captain waved it away instantly. George booted himself down on the ground again as Sergeant Grant took to observing the scene like it were a show.

" Map-Keeper." Natia said with a nod, her eyes glazed over - there was obvious pain and memories lodged like a rock in her throat, but no one deserved to see that. 

Agent Mortem had taught her that and though she dismissed plenty of his ideologies for her own, she wouldn't dismiss that. He had been right about that and she would admit it. You didn't let anyone see you at your weakest, and so all you could do was appear as if you were at your strongest. 

" Still on that stupid nickname are we?" Captain Nixon said, a brooding smirk spread upon his petty lips, a teasing look in his eye. Her lip barely twitched.

" Right," Captain Nixon said, and Natia clenched her jaw.

" What do you need?' Natia asked him, ignoring the looks from her peripheral.

" Seems Battalion thought you put on quite a show for them out there on that patrol," Captain Nixon said as Natia's gaze narrowed on him, " and it seems they wanna know what else you got up your sleeves."

" Why?" Natia questioned, " 10 days ago, they looked at me like I was the enemy, like I was a child. The don't deserve my capabilities. And that wasn't a show, I was just trying to get out of there."

" Well, you impressed them if it's anything." Captain Nixon said with a huff as he pulled the cigarette from his lip with a shrug. Natia watched him.

" I do not wish to speak to your Battalion," Natia said, " I may be intertwined within your company, but I will not be pushed to talk to your Battalion, sitting back behind the line with their shiny medals, their sparkling champagne as man after man dies on the lines from a variety of passages to death." Captain Nixon watched her, his one brow raised at her tone of voice which was not seeming to hold back.

" You have plenty of capable men within the company to complete whatever task you wish, I will not." she said, her eyes holding his intensely as her fists clenched - she needed to calm down, and absolutely none of this was helping her current situation. All day, it had been so incredibly tense, from waking up, to breakfast, to the patrol, the Captain Winters, to now Sergeant Grant and Captain Nixon - the combination made her insides churn. Just like back in Warsaw, in Headquarters with her own superiors. She was done being led around by men who sat in the high chair, controlling a war that had already caused enough damage. Captain Nixon watched her, as even with her helmet off and her hair falling from the bun behind her head, she looked inhuman.

" I'll let ya think on it then." Captain Nixon said, as if trying to even the playing field. Natia narrowed her eyes at him.

" I've decided already, Captain, there's no thinking needed." she said coldly and she had to take a breath for a moment to slowly let her fist unclench from the tight grasp it currently was suffocated in. By the tone of voice, it seemed Captain Nixon's own eyes turned cold.

" They won't be happy-"

" They'll just have to learn to be satisfied then, Captain." she said," In war, you don't get happiness with the snap of your fingers. You don't get what you want." Her words silenced the Captain for once and as she plopped herself back on the ground beside George, she watched the Captain's feet retreat away from the trio under the cover of darkness.

" In the middle of a fucking war and there's already one brewing behind the front lines." Natia said shaking her head as she slowly brought the rag up to her face again and let out a sigh, shutting her eyes," It's fantastic." _Ah yes, the sarcasm has made it's mighty return._

" That's what you get with the Brits." Sergeant Grant said - and she rolled her eyes momentarily, 

" Figured you'd know that much at least."

" I know exactly what they're like, I don't need someone else to advise me on such a matter." she said, looking up at him from George's side and sporting a sarcastic look upon her face,

" And the one that mentored me was quite the gem, so if you'd excuse me, I'd like to go and punch a tree." George let out a small snicker to himself.

" Don't you already have enough blood on your hands as it is?" muttered the NCO, before not even giving her enough time to say a word and turning away. George's smile fell and Natia slowly opened up her eyes feeling her heart squeeze a bit tighter inside her chest than it already was. Natia could barely breath it felt, like the weight pulsating down on her lungs wasn't already hard enough to get past.

" Flip-"

" I'm fine." she managed out, her voice small. But in her mind, things were on fire, and her emotions if not yet barricaded down were nearing their breaking point. She didn't want for this to happen, for ANY of this to happen. She wasn't the one who had thought that she would have to witness this many people dying at her own hand. She didn't think that'd be her out of the millions who were also experiencing the same in war. She had never wanted that. 

Natia slowly shut her eyes again as she thought of how cold and comforting the rag against her face was in this moment and instead began to focus on the soft trickle of cold into her overheated body and sighed softly. These men could believe whatever they wanted about her and she had barely an ounce of power to change that, but she would just have to keep moving on. Step by step, space by space. 

Continuing on as War's pawn in the lonely journey from one side to the next. 

Maybe then she'd have the upper hand. 

Later that night in the foxholes, after the NCOs had done their normal checks - after Sergeant Talbert had gotten his few remarks out of the way, Sergeant Guarnere had given her the cold shoulder, and Johnny had offered a soft smile it was just Natia and George again, passing the cigarette from Malarkey in between the two of them without a word passing from their lips. Natia would take a puff and then pass it to George who did the same, sucking in the smoke gleefully, before passing it back to her fingers without second thought. 

George knew what she had done today on the patrol - the majority of Easy Company did by this point in time. The majority of Easy Company hadn't taken thought to the Agent it seemed for quite some time - it had accumulated after she had helped save Lieutenant Compton without second thought. This only added to it. 

Because the question was why? 

Why do it for a company, part of a country that did nothing for her own? 

No one felt they'd ever know with the mysterious Agent who walked as if inviting Death along with her for the ride - she didn't seem to mind his presence mostly - it was fascinating. Some had their doubts, their own thoughts in the boiling pot of water, but Natia had dealt with it before - these Easy Company men weren't anything new to her. 

After George had fallen asleep by her side, soft snores leaving his lips, her mind lay awake - sleep was her enemy and had been for quite some time, because that's when the nightmares came out, and the smack of reality she never wished to ever face. Because more and more her mind was consumed by the grief of Felicjan's death. He had faced Death with no fear, a pistol aimed at the face of the enemy and he had accepted it. 

Sitting stark still, she felt real tears, actual emotion-filled tears, well in her eyes for the first time since Zdzich's death. There were tears in her eyes. Natia's hands clenched, the white knuckles making their comeback in the dirt pit she currently sat in.

" You're fine." Natia whispered out, as her throat clenched - it ached in a way she couldn't describe. Holding back the tears at night, so no one would hear. She did the same when she was in Agent Mortem's company, after training all day and she was finally alone in her bed, her mind a tattered mess. Crying so hard that it was silent, tears on her cheek like a mosaic, like a painting. But Natia refused to cry here, right now, with a war on the lose.

" You're fine, see." With those words, Natia tried to smile, her lips quivering as she did so, sitting there with tear filled eyes, so blurry that her blood covered hands, white knuckled and thin were unable to be fully seen. Wiping the blood from her clenched fists on her ODs, Natia let out a shaky breath - her mind ached, her throat ached, everything ached.

" Stop crying." she muttered, trying to build up the frustration that simmered in her soul, " You're fine." Pushing her head back against the foxhole, she shut her eyes, letting shaky breaths leave her lips in rolling waves, as she forced herself to keep the tears inside her brown eyes, like a mother scolding her child to stay in the yard. Natia put a hand to her forehead, as she sucked in a shuttering breath and let a shaky one follow.

" You're fine." Natia didn't know how many more times she would repeat the statement, but she would repeat it until she was fine - because she was fine. And she refused to cry in this dank foxhole. 

Unbeknownst to her, George Luz lie awake beside her, hearing her every word, and the cries that struggled to remain held behind the barrier that was her lips. But when he heard her breathing slow, he knew she had fallen into a sleep - a light sleep even - but she was sleeping. George settled again for the time being and shut his eyes as well. 

For someone so strong, the night left her broken no matter how much she seemed to love the way the darkness covered her faults. 

The following morning, they were on the move, as ordered, towards Wijchen along what she had heard Lieutenant Welsh call Hell's Highway - it was quite the name. Breakfast had been a K-ration split with George, and then helping one another lift their radios to one another's backs before George broke into fits of jokes, which got a smile on Natia's face and was enough to settle George's already worried self. 

George couldn't stop looking at her eyes throughout the morning, the way that fighting spirit seemed to have died at some point in the night, diminished by the mantra he heard from her lips to silence the demons. She seemed more exhausted, more weighed down like there was a weight bigger than the radio already on her back hanging there. She seemed worn down and utterly exhausted, just every bit of her.

" You doing okay?" George had asked her, as they walked quietly behind Lip who moved with 1st platoon and Lieutenant Welsh that morning. Natia glanced up at George, seeing the softness of his eyes penetrate her built up walls that she forced to stay up.

" Yeah, yeah, I'm fine. Doing fine....uh, you?" she asked, her answer making his heart ache a bit. Natia watched George for a moment, as his eyes worriedly watched her own. She forced a smile on her lips, pulling up the one corner of her lips a bit as she did so.

" How much longer we gotta walk?" a voice complained, coming on George's right, and both looked over to see it was Frank Perconte.

" How many times do I have to tell ya that I'm not an intelligence officer?" George quipped out towards him and Frank smirked.

" Too many," Frank said and Natia smiled a meager bit. Frank shook his head with a chuckle as George rolled his eyes.

" Radio operators." he muttered as George shoved his shoulder with a laugh.

" I saved your ass plenty times because of this radio alright?" George said as Frank let out a laugh and looked to Natia who walked quietly by George's side now, not even content on listening to the conversation which currently was the second loudest thing to her thoughts.

" Hey, Agent Fidel, you okay?" Frank called towards her as they walked. Natia looked up quickly and met his eyes. Did she really look that sad that it made people question her well-being? She was crumbling and people were beginning to see those cracks.

" Fine." she managed out, her eyes unchanged - she in no way looked fine, in any respect. 

Agent Mortem had always said that when one asked you how you were, you said you were fine - never let another soul how you were feeling, don't let them in, don't let know how you were because then that's how you got hurt, that's how you showed your weakness. Natia squeezed her eyes shut and had to restrain herself from clenching her fists tightly together with the frustration that built inside her system. 

Wijchen was a step up from Uden, in it that it was not as hot as it had been there, but night time was drawing closer. Nearly the entire march had been in the boiling hot sun with helmets and uniforms that brought in heat easily and heavy radios. Her muscles ached, and her feet were sore and she had been right about the blisters at least which she knew would collect around the soles. 

There was a river that ran by their encampment, she had seen it upon their entry to where foxholes were to be dug out - it's waters were calm and it was hidden by darkness with the moonlight shining just beyond it. 

George had already begun digging the foxhole, stating how right now, for unnamed reasons, it was the last thing he wanted Natia doing, so she retreated to the river. Natia sat on the few large rocks along the edge, the rock still having heat previously collected from the sun now radiating up into her being, as she stuck her feet in the cold water to soothe the sores on them. It stung for a moment, she arguably had to agree with that, but by the time her feet were submerged it felt nice, to at least numb something. Natia could hear the murmurs from the encampment - they'd be on the move as well tomorrow to Beuningen - but for the moment hearing the murmurs from the camp in the cover of night was a comfort enough.

" Agent." a voice said - not a questioning nor condescending tone - just a simple word to alert her attention. Natia slowly glanced over her shoulder and found it to be the Map-keeper again, his reappearance one she had long ago suspected.

" Captain." she said to him, returning to staring forward again, eyes remaining on the slow rushing water that moved past her sore feet and done to where ever it's final resting place would be. But that's the thing with water - it never quite rested for a soul.

" Listen, about yesterday with the whole Battalion thing - the guys up there just, they're curious, you gotta know that at least." Captain Nixon started, as her ear listened to his voice for a moment, " Especially the Brits." Natia shut her eyes as her mind trailed briefly to Agent Mortem, making her, forcing her to remember her last day when she had stood under his eye, a trained little war machine, without no thought except to kill maliciously and undermine the enemy.

" What do the Brits want with me? It seems they forgot about me once I left 3 years ago." Natia stated, her eyes on the tree line on the opposite embankment.

" I don't think we're talking about the same Brits then, Agent." Captain Nixon said and Natia glanced over her shoulder towards him. Her eyes narrowed in question and a smirk rose on his lips.

" Want a smoke?" he offered. Natia, inclined, offered a hesitant nod in his direction. Captain Nixon smirked, stepping forward, a bit lazily if she could say, a bit exhaustedly, and took a seat on the other rock beside her own. He looked out along the opposite embankment just like she had previously done, and reached into his front pocket as if it were routine and proceeded to pull two cigarettes from the Olive Drab.

" Here, first," he said and she reached a pale hand forward to take it and quickly set it upon her lip with ease, before casting a glance towards Captain Nixon. He had placed his own cigarette on his lip, unlit and outstretched his hand forward with the lighter towards her. Her eyes watched his uneasily - what was his motive for approaching her in the night? What did he want with her? Natia, instead, took the lighter from his hand and lit the cigarette herself with ease.

" Alright, then," Captain Nixon said, as he briefly removed the unlit smoke from his own lip, to take a sip of whatever lay in the canteen - from the way his eyes widened a bit and his eyebrow twitched, the conclusion was that it was most definitely not water. Captain Nixon was surprised to see her staring at him, smoke leaving her mouth as her eyes remained on the canteen.

" There's no way after 10 days you still have whatever you put in there, there." she said, " I suspected with you it would've been gone instead within the first 10 hours."

" Cognac," Captain Nixon said with a smirk, " I'm more of a Vat 69 guy myself but it seems the Dutch don't have that particular supplement around. And I vaguely remember a certain Agent reminiscing about how our men would soon get drunk on the very liquid, so I figured, eh, why not." Natia grimaced out a smirk at his cognac comment and picked at the part of her uniform where dried blood fell off of.

" That'd be me." she said as Captain Nixon smirked, taking the lighter from where it rested beside her now. Natia watched him light up the tiny thing and then click the lighter closed before sitting with the cigarette on his lips, a tiny smile on his face.

" Why're your feet in the water, Agent?"

" Why'd you approach me when you have about 5 other drinking buddies better than me?" Captain Nixon turned to her with a smirk, a chuckle leaving his lips.

" Because you might need one after this." he told her, removing the smoke briefly to take a sip of the cognac in the canteen. She watched him, curiously, trying to understand quite possibly what he meant by his words.

" Then, by all means, enlighten me." she said, taking another pleasurable drag of the smoke, letting it fill her lungs before letting out the smoke again, with a sigh.

" Well," Captain Nixon said, his dark eyes alive with a sort of tangible joy that made Natia curious as to what he had to say," looks like after the British decided on this whole thing, they were planning on sticking around just a bit longer with us." Natia stared at him, swallowing a bit as she did so.

" Please tell me you're joking, Captain." she said, eyeing up the drink again that so eagerly awaited her finger tips. No pistol, no piano keys - a canteen filled with cognac it is.

" Wish I was, Agent," Captain Nixon said and Natia sighed, reaching down to grab the canteen right from his grasp and pull it to her lips. The liquid stung a bit once it hit her mouth and seemed to trot down her throat like one of those great American race horses. Pulling the canteen away with a sigh she found the Captain smirking up at her with the moon dancing in his eyes as the cigarette played on his lips. She narrowed her gaze and held back the urge to roll her eyes.

" So, are we moving with the British after this then, defending some random place in Holland?" she asked him, passing back the canteen into his grasp with a sigh, the cigarette finding its way back to her lips again.

" Supposedly," Captain Nixon said, nodding his head back and forth a bit, before glancing up at her, " out to some peninsula of land near Arnhem."

" Great," she muttered, as the numbing pain in her feet of the water became far too much for her, " where do you suppose that is then?"

" Probably some field with those pebble filled roads running through it, I don't know." Natia chuckled at his comment and glanced at him as she slowly eased her feet back and out of the gently running water of the stream.

" You are the Intelligence Officer right? Mr. Map-Keeper? Thought you'd know where by now." she said with a growing smirk as she wiped her feet off the best she could. Captain Nixon glanced at her and smirked.

" Real funny, Agent." he murmured, putting the cigarette on his lip, only after he waved it around in his hand like some ancient philosopher. Natia smirked to herself as she slowly began to pull on the socks and boots, performing a double tie firmly for both feet as well.

" So what's this then with the Brits hanging around - they're still fighting with the Americans, clearly, but 'curious' you say?" she asked him and the Captain nodded, rolling his eyes slightly.

" They heard about patrol and they clearly knew about you too. I mean," Captain Nixon leaned closer to her and pushed his voice low," they're all pretty curious about you. Not everyday we get a rogue Agent." Natia's mouth fell into a thin line and she shrugged her shoulders.

" Good, I like to keep them on the edge of their seats." she said, adjusting the cigarette on her lip again," You know, it makes life interesting." Standing to her feet, she heard the Captain chuckle at the mild inkling of sarcasm that dripped from her voice, as she blew out some of the smoke into the cool night air.

" Where you going?" Captain Nixon asked her and Natia sighed.

" Sleep. I'm in need of some of it." she said to him, glancing up towards the moon and blinking at its brightness even on the dark night," Thanks for the cognac."

" We all need a little of it here and there now don't we?" he said and Natia snickered at his remark and nodded.

" It makes the war a little more bearable." she said and the Captain chuckled at her comment with a nod, taking another sip of the canteen again as Natia glanced to the water again, the twirling of the waves and various little pools rushing through her ears.

" Get some rest, Agent, might have another patrol tomorrow." he said and Natia nodded, glancing to the sky again.

" Will do." she said, with a nod, before turning and stepping off the rocks again towards the darkness. But she turned again to look towards the Captain once more.

" Oh and if you find more of that cognac -" Captain Nixon watched her, " I'll be happy to take it off your hands." And with a smirk, and a cigarette on her lip, Natia trekked back through the darkness towards the foxholes, the pocket where the papers from the tank in Nuenen currently sat, burning like a flame.

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H I S T O R I C A L N O T E S

> No important historical notes for this chapter! 

A / N

_HELLO!!! :D Today we are back to another DOUBLE UPDATE!! These two chapters just stick really well together and I feel it would be most appropriate to upload them together and after the rough week of statistics schoolwork I've had, I've felt it is best and I'm super hype about it! These two chapters deal with some heavy topics, the Agent Mortem angst, the flashbacks, the guilt, the mistrust - all of it. Poor Naita :') Enjoy the next chapter as well!! <3_


	31. The Secrets of the Wolf

"Oh, but you must travel through those woods again and again... said a shadow at the window... and you must be lucky to avoid the wolf every time...  
  
But the wolf... the wolf only needs enough luck to find you once."

_― Emily Carroll_

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**_September 29th, 1944_ **

**_Wijchen, Holland on 'Hell's Highway'_ **

_**2200** _

With even the slightest bit of alcohol swirling in her chest, a bit of a freer self eclipsed her. Natia didn't mind cognac every once and a while - Jozef back in Eindhoven had offered her a few sips, and Agent Mortem occasionally had a few bottles in while she spent time in his studies. The cigarette on her lip was nearly gone as her eyes scored the general vicinity for George. But instead her eyes found Johnny's, where he stood talking to Bull. Natia cleared her throat quietly to herself, and turned, stepping her way towards them.

" Hi." she said as she approached, a loose lipped smile forced on her face, her eyes remaining frozen in their sunken in place. 

" Hey," Bull said, nodding to the cigarette, " how'd you manage that?" Natia glanced at it.

" Captain Nixon made an offer." she said taking a gentle puff in.

" Didn't know you two were friendly." Johnny said, " Figured he'd be the one you'd be mouthing off to." Natia couldn't help but smirk the slightest bit, as she met his eyes.

" If there's a cigarette that's involved, I'll take my chances." she said to him, taking the last few bits of smoke of what she could gather before letting the butt end dance in her fingers for a few moments. Bull chuckled as Johnny smirked up at him before looking to Natia again.

" You befriended Speirs then yet?" Johnny asked her and Natia momentarily went back to her interaction with the Lieutenant over a week ago.

" I don't know if befriending is the word to use." she said and Bull glanced at her.

" I'm guessing it didn't go well." Bull said and Natia felt her shoulders slump briefly.

" Not entirely." she answered and Johnny gave a slight, hopeful smile her way.

" Heard what you did on patrol," Johnny said as his smile fell a bit, and Natia watched it fade from his eyes," it was brave." Natia's fingers fumbled together a bit as she suddenly felt the wave of grief override her system.

" I'm sure any of you would've done the same." She avoided their eyes, the way they searched out her own - she refused to meet them now.

" Why'd you do it?" Bull asked, his voice quieter. There it was. Natia glanced to her right and left briefly.

" I already told you - I'm sure anyone in this company would've done the same."" But it was you, who ran out to save him, it was you." Johnny said and Natia met his eyes.

" I know what the Nazis have done." her words slipped out with a twinge of the deep-seeded anger that possessed her innards. Bull and Johnny's eyes were on her in seconds, widen with curiosity as well as nerves and anxiousness.

" To bodies not taken after death," she said, nodding, " I've seen them do things that no human should be capable of doing." Natia watched them as a group of replacements walked back, voices spilling past their lips with laughs and jokes.

" Your men do not deserve that. No one does. I was not going to allow that to happen." Natia said her voice quiet for once, " Reckless as it was in the face of your Commanding Officer, it was something I would not allow to happen again." The _again_ was what forced Bull's eyes to meet her own.

" Again?" Natia nearly flinched at the word.

" Being a spy is not all fun and games as you might suspect it to be." she said, her voice shallow, crossing her arms as the thoughts of cognac and smoke suddenly were in the dust.

" I'm sorry I asked." Johnny said and Natia shook her head.

" No, no, no it's not your fault." Natia said looking up at them - it's just too much for a young mind.

" I hope you get home soon, Agent, back to where ever you come from I mean." Bull told her, placing a gentle hand on her shoulder just like what Lip had done before. A gentle smile was on his lips as he watched her and it was enough to settle her for the moment as she stood there with them.

" Not like I won't miss ya, but I know you miss it, just like some of these replacements missing home." Bull said as Natia laughed lightly, a chuckle escaping from Johnny's own mouth.

" I hope I get home too. I hope we all do." she said, a slight nod leaving her body as she softly said those words, her mind thinking back to life when there was no war that even put between her and home. It seemed more like a distant memory in that moment.

" Get some rest, supposedly they're talking about another patrol tomorrow anyway." Johnny said and Natia sighed.

" I'm not surprised." she said, scratching her neck for a moment before glancing over her shoulder towards where a general majority of the group was," I'll see you guys later."

" Good night,"

" Get some rest." With the well wishes sending her off on her way, Natia moved through the foxholes towards where she knew George would be. Under the darkness, she didn't feel quite as alone as she did in the broad daylight, crossed arms over her figure, feet silent on the Earth - it was a feeling she never felt that much anymore. 

George was sat outside of the foxhole with a few of the guys when she arrived - Frank Perconte she could easily point out, along with James Alley and to her distaste, Joseph Liebgott. The first to notice her stalking approach, with narrowed eyes, was George looking up from the K-ration in his grasp as he did so. Her name almost rolled off his tongue in the process, but he was quick in clearing himself up.

" Fidel!" he called and Natia ignored how fast Joseph's head shot up like a bullet destined for her brain. She instead slowly moved over towards him and squeezed in beside him, appreciating the slight bit of warmth his body gave off in the night. With a quick glance at Joseph, she found his eyes already narrowed at her, as James continued laughing at a comment made by Frank.

" I was wondering where you went off to." George said, pulling a piece of bread from the K-ration out and putting it into her hands, " Here, eat this."

" It's yours, George, I'm fine." she said and George smiled at her.

" Just eat the damn bread, Fidel, I'll beat you in darts another time, and win a pack of smokes right back." he said and Natia couldn't help but smirk at his comment, making him chuckle as well. Natia glanced up again and found Joseph watching her, as he worked on the smoke that danced on his lips, his eyes cold and lifeless watching her own, different from the childish gaze that had accompanied him yesterday when they had spoken, or, well, argued.

" Something on your mind, Joe?" she asked, nibbling on the bread for a moment before glancing up towards him curiously. Joseph watched her, eyeing her up for a second as he scoffed.

" Nothing that concerns you." he answered her, before pulling the cigarette from his lips to let some smoke out. Natia smirked, shaking her head for a moment as George glanced at her briefly.

" Just...looked like you had a question on your mind, that's all." she said with a shrug as Joseph's gaze narrowed.

" Then I guess this does concern you, huh, Agent?" Natia watched him, as Frank and Alley grew quiet looking between the two.

" Enlighten me." she said.

" How is it that you speak perfect fucking English and you come from this unknown place, yet you're an Agent, huh?" Joseph said leaning forward, plucking the cigarette stiffly from his lips, " I know I'm not the only one wondering that." Natia watched him.

" The wolf does not tell it's secrets, Joe." she said quietly to him, meeting his eyes with a now quiet strength - she knew battling with the words she wished to spill was no use with someone like Joseph Liebgott. Sometimes a quiet strength did better than the brute. The group glanced around each other for a moment as Natia stretched her fingers a bit before reaching down for the pistol at her side. 

Pulling it out in the silence of their answers, she pulled the pistol into her lap - the American one that had been provided in the absence of her P-38 which had since run out of ammo. She slowly cleaned the edges of the pistol in their silence. With a smirk growing on her face, past conversations forgotten, she slowly lifted up the pistol and pointed straight through where Joseph and Alley on the opposite end of the foxhole. Instinctively, as anyone would do, and as she predicted they moved back and out of the way with wide eyes as she held it steady.

" What the fuck are you doing?" Joseph snapped in her direction as she smirked.

" The wolf does not tell it's secrets." she said quietly, squinting an eye momentarily, as George glanced at her with a tiny smirk.

" The enemy," she started, as if she were talking to a group of mere children, continuing to hold her weapon in front of her face, " squirms under a confident gaze, it's quite amusing if you watch closely." Joseph narrowed his eyes.

" What's going on here?" a voice asked, approaching under the cover of darkness, a bit more of a serious tone than Natia would've wished. The group glanced towards the source and found none other than Sergeant Toye, brown eyes glowing like a deer's in the darkness.

" She doing the same thing to you too?" he asked the group, a slight smirk on his voice, low voice ringing out clear in the darkness.

" What are you talking about?" Frank asked him.

" Pulled a gun on me just last week." he exclaimed, a bit exasperated as Natia smirked to herself a bit, and tilted the weapon from side-to-side.

" You've been doing this to more than one person?" Joseph exclaimed, his voice echoing off the nearby forest, bouncing then back towards the foxholes.

" Are you surprised?" muttered George as Natia chuckled.

" It's called defense," Natia told Joseph, looking right at his eyes," you never know with the Nazis sometimes, and this is sometimes your best defense." 

" Clearly not the best, because somehow you're here with us." Joseph snapped back and Natia's eyes flashed to him, anger coursing through her veins, slowly seeping into what was feeding the monster in her heart, as her grip turned white, and suddenly her focus was on the lanky man at the opposite end of the foxhole. His gaze didn't falter when her own eyes held his, in her ever-changing dark brown ones.

" Shut up." she snapped, her voice distant and cold, the emotions of joy and pleasure which had previously run through her voice at talks of a wolf had dissipated quickly after Joseph's comment - her blood ran cold.

" It's the truth." grumbled Joseph, slowly pushing to his feet as he stood over the foxhole peering down at her, " You just come in here, thinking we're all best buddies now, huh? How are we even supposed to trust someone who doesn't even have a real fucking name?"

" Shut up, Joseph Liebgott." she snapped, " Shut up."

" What's that gonna do? Telling me to shut up?" taunted Joseph as Natia's gaze narrowed and she could faintly see George and Sergeant Toye glancing at her from both peripherals. She blocked them out - all she saw was red.

" Joe calm down." George said but Joseph ignored him with a heavy heart.

" You don't got a real name do you?" In an instance, Natia was on her feet, staring him down like she were some sort of hawk swooping in for prey. 

Slowly moving around the edge of the foxhole, she approached him as he stood his ground watching her move closer and closer. Stopping right before him, she looked at his eyes, narrowing her vision further when she met his own dark-brown eyes, as if studying the anger he felt.

" Don't think I don't know why you're angry, Joe." she said, pushing the end of the pistol into his side slightly, making him grunt as a response, " Liebgott may be of German descent, but your first name says otherwise - I am not who you should take your anger out on, especially when I have put bullets through the heads of the ones you and I both despise." 

Joseph met her eyes in the tense silence, as he tilted his head slightly at her watching her, completely seemingly unfazed that he stood nearly overtop of her. She was merely intimidated. 

Then, Natia pulled the weapon from where she had it touching his side and slowly pushed it into its holster, refusing to remove her eyes from Joseph's and slowly stepped back. The look in her eyes sent Joseph frozen - she knew what he had refused to tell multiple people. Bill Guarnere and a select few others had heard him say it, back on the Samaria, a year ago nearly and now a year later, a strange Agent with a mind like a mad-man's, knew too - and he hadn't said a word. Natia slowly settled down beside George again, sitting motionless by his side as Joseph stared at her from where he stood. Sergeant Toye blinked a few times before clearing his throat.

" Get some rest, guys," he said, briefly looking to the silent Agent on the edge of the foxhole, 

" there's a patrol set for tomorrow and any of you could be on it."

" See ya guys," Frank said, as George nodded with a smile up to his friend, as Alley soon followed, leaving Joseph still standing at the opposite end of the foxhole, staring down the Agent who had put up her walls again, building them even higher and now refusing to meet his eye - and his anger only grew.

" See ya," he said, tone snappy and aggravated as he turned and stalked away, lanky gate carrying him into the night. Sergeant Toye looked to the two.

" Get some rest you two." he said, as he moved away and Natia remained in her frozen state.

" See ya, Joe." George said as Sergeant Toye moved away leaving the two radio operators side by side. The two were silent, as Natia's mind seemed to scramble in that time. She had completely upended him, picking out in his heart what hurt the most and nearly sent him 6 feet under at the mere comment. She knew that's where his anger stemmed - he didn't seem the type to fight without a valid reason.

" Joe's Jewish." she whispered softly and George glanced her way briefly.

" Yeah, he is."

" It's why he's so angry at me, for nothing, because he has nowhere else to take out that anger and I'm the thing closest to any enemy that he has." she said stiffly, her eyes unfocused and dazed out.

" I guess so."

" Let him," she said, " he needs a punching bag anyway." She was not much different from Joseph Liebgott - not many of the men were, but he had a right for his anger to be his motivator. Cezar, back home, was much of the same - there was no fight if there was no valid reason. Natia sighed as George looked at her, a slight smirk etched on his features.

" You're pretty badass, Flip," he said leaning towards her slightly with a tiny grin on his face. Natia felt the corner of her lip twitch up as she glanced over towards him, meeting his gentle, brown eyes. He smiled at her. No one ever smiled at her anymore, more they shuddered away in fear, seeing her looking so dead with a fake smile as a cover up. George smiled though. But it suddenly faltered the slightest bit.

" Were you okay last night?" he softly asked her, watching as her eyes grew sad as her face remained frozen.

" Yeah," she said quickly, a soft nod leaving her being," all good, don't worry." George watched her, and he could see the fear that she held in her eyes as she said those words, he could see the way she yearned to keep a hold on his eyes as if she'd look away and the demons would finally come back. But eventually she looked away with a tight-lipped smile and slide down into the foxhole beside where her radio was. 

George softly let out a sigh to himself, and slide in beside her. He watched her settle in up against the side of the slightly damp dirt of the ground, and send a smile George's way before shutting her eyes. 

George slowly did the same, but kept his eyes half closed, watching the silent Agent attempt to get to sleep. He knew she had been crying last night, and the way her cries had touched his heart in such a painful manner, he knew he never wanted to hear them again ever in his life. 

So, he took to staring at that stars that night, keeping a listening ear out for her cries, for something, anything. 

But that night, the demons stayed in her mind and didn't want out - the terrorizing dreams controlled her mind and her entire being and that night she suffered in the silence of sleep, racing against time inside a tiny little mind with no escape until she were devoured whole. 

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H I S T O R I C A L N O T E S 

> Not a historical note, but keep an eye out for those wolf references! ;) 

A / N

_HELLO!! I hope you all enjoyed the double update - I know I enjoyed it so much that there may be another next week!! But I'm not sure yet, school will be the leading factor if I have time for more than one (it's been written for months lol) but online school recently has been draining SO -- I will do my best for some double updates coming up because I really enjoy them!! Thank you all for reading, commenting, voting and enjoying - it truly means the world to me more than anything! :) Happy reading and see you next week! <3_


	32. Words Left Unspoken

"A couple hundred languages, infinite letters, yet, some emotions are left unsaid."

_― Misbah Khan  
_

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**_September 30th, 1944_ **

**_Wijchen, Holland on 'Hell's Highway'_ **

**_1200_ **

Captain Winters didn't allow her on the patrol - not that she didn't have the capabilities, but supposedly, a certain Map-Keeper had convinced the Captain to let her rest - she had proved herself enough, even if it were not in the way she deemed fit. She had accepted the offering of food that Heffron had given her, a slight smile on his face as he approached her. With a thank you, he was off, but he waved as he looked over his shoulder, a little jump in his step, like he was proud of himself. 

Natia smiled to herself as she glanced down at the lukewarm oatmeal - it was better than anything the Resistance ever had. She thought she tasted even a bite of cinnamon in there. Supposedly the patrol had gone, by word of mouth from what she could hear a few NCOs talking about - Lip had supposedly gone on again, this time with Lieutenant Peacock, and it had been successful with the mass of 2nd platoon this time. 

Skip, Malarkey and Penkala had eaten breakfast with her and found a way to make her laugh like it were their only goal in life. It was a change in the atmosphere - morale had sucked the company it seemed to an all time low, but people were beginning to find joy in the little things that life had to offer - it was quite nice she felt. 

George and her spent most of the day together, cleaning their radios, as George told her more about his home life, his family and of course little Maria. It distracted her mind for the time being and she was grateful for George, listening to his stories which made her smile, a real genuine smile, and forever grateful for the person he was. 

But each time she went to talk about her own family, her throat clenched and it suddenly felt as if she couldn't breath, and it held her back from even saying a word to him about it. 5 years and the memories were as fresh as if it were yesterday. 

The night passed with rain, and into the following morning as the march from Wijchen to Beuningen, Holland began. The grey clouds covered the sky in a darkness that drained the once slightly spirited moods of the Easy company men yet again. 

Natia moved behind George, as they moved in two vertical lines along the side of the road, their boots squishing the mud, soaking in around them, as the rain turned their warm bodies chilled like the snow. Her eyes moved over to where she walked in line with Joseph Liebgott whom she had avoided for the time being. He glanced her way briefly, and then looked back in front of him, eyes narrowed in annoyance. 

She sighed to herself and glanced up towards the bundle of NCOs that included Sergeants Talbert, Grant and Guarnere, all talking to each other in their bundle as they moved along with Lip who stood a few feet in front of him, walking silently through the rain. 

The rain was the only thing she heard, overpowering the blood rushing in her ears, and the pace at which they moved. But then there was a quiet, raspy voice from a few people back, their quiet voice, humming over the pounding rain that fell down onto their grey ponchos faster and faster. Natia's gate almost slowed at which the pace she walked as she heard the quiet voice singing the tune.

" I'll be seeing you..." the man sang, " In all the old familiar places..." Natia's heart slowly pounded, faster and faster. Music.

" That this heart of mine embraces, all day and through...in that small cafe...." Natia slowly glanced backwards, back over her shoulder in the grey darkness and found Sergeant Toye singing the tune like there was no one else around. 

Natia slowly faced forward again, as tears fought to well in her eyes. Because with music, she felt everything, you always did - you felt the words that you wished had been said, not spoken through the music you never thought you'd hear. The rain mixed with the silent tear that slowly streaked down her cold face, her emotionless eyes letting that tear pool with the rain, concealing it from everyone who moved around her. 

She hadn't heard music like Sergeant Toye's voice in years - the Resistance song pained her more than anything, for Zdzich sang it like a prayer, the mantra of Poland was sang constantly by Ryzshard, and nearly any song on the radio, crackling through in Polish sent her heart aching, as she imagined her father humming the tune as he twirled Klimeck around on her tiptoes. 

But Sergeant Toye's voice was raspy and soulful, and he wasn't just singing just to sing - his voice felt the pain of the company around him, for those lost and those living, for those who will be missed, a tune that they will not be forgotten. 

Natia softly brushed a finger under her eye, and let a shaky breath from her lips as Sergeant Toye continued his tune, which seemed to settle the weary group. A few were humming, maybe one or two were whistling. But Natia shut her eyes, trusting the presence of George in front of her to lead her forward, and softly reached for the picture of her parents, lying crumpled in the pocket in her olive drab, and slowly pulled it out and set her eyes upon them, as the rain came down on the crinkled and tattered photograph in her fingers. 

Their eyes were so bright, so full of a life that had been taken from them by that of a bullet, silencing the joy that had once inhibited them. Natia couldn't take the resurfacing pain and shoved the picture back into her front pocket of the olive drab and shoved it closed. She let the warmth in Sergeant Toye's voice keep her moving for the time being, even though in that moment of time where no one could see her face for it was shadowed by her helmet and the sky above, she was near the edge before she was tipped over into a bout of tears. The tangle of the lyrics from his voice kept her afloat in that moment. 

No tears deserved to be bore, from the one who deserved no tears herself. 

Beuningen was different from Uden and Wijchen in it that instead of foxholes, there were barns practically everywhere - farmers clearly had abandoned their homes when they heard of what was presumably occurring in Arnhem and Nijmegen nearby. Beuningen was a little town by the Waal River and just over it would be where they would fortify positions from where the British were currently holding a position to the North. But for the moment, they'd bed down here before their occupation would begin. 

Natia had sent herself numb again after the inkling feel of tears had previously overwhelmed her just by the song of the weary, and was searching out for a place to finally get some warmth and rest from the cold rain that fought it's way down on top of them. 

But first - she had to deal with the NCOS, and she didn't particularly enjoy the majority of them. She would suck it up though, she had dealt with things worse than this group. Slowly approaching the group of NCOs grouped together in the downpour, she squeezed in beside Sergeant Grant and Sergeant Talbert who gave her glances, shifting slightly away to give her a spare bit of room as she stared out numbly from under the helmet on her head, the darkened rims, making her eyes nearly black.

" Nice of you to join us." Sergeant Guarnere muttered as Natia narrowed her eyes from across the group at him. Her lip twitched the slightest bit as the two stared the other down.

" Not like I willingly did so, Sergeant. It's an order." she grumbled out.

" Don't poke the wolf there Bill." Sergeant Grant said with a chuckle," She might bite." Natia shut her eyes, as she clenched her jaw, pushing out a puff of air briefly as she reopened and stared forward. She met Johnny's eyes who were narrowed on Sergeant Grant intensely.

" Who said I'd bite?" she growled out, arms locked across her chest as the rain continued to pool at their feet," I'd much rather use the knife at my fingertips."

" How scary." muttered Sergeant Talbert.

" Alright, shut up, c'mon now." Johnny said," Leave her alone, you three." Johnny's gaze moved on Sergeants Guarnere, Grant and Talbert.

" She could probably knife you three with one hit, so let's just stop it for now." Bull said," We already have an enemy in our way, we don't need sides in our own rank."

" That's how you die." she said," Turning on your own Allies." She was a hypocrite in that moment though - she'd pulled guns on plenty of Allies. It grew quiet as Lip slowly made his way over to the group.

" Alright boys, Agent." Lip said," Move men into barns, make sure they're accounted for, we get info tomorrow on movement. Agent Fidel, Captain Winters is looking for you." Natia looked to Lip and then coldly nodded - she didn't want to be cold to Lip when she had a connection with him, but the prudent stares of the men edged her on as such.

" Where'd you say that knife was?" Sergeant Grant muttered from beside her, and Natia's jaw clenched further.

" Up your ass shortly if you don't shut up." she muttered out, her fists tightening to their eerie, ghost-like white. Control yourself.

" That a threat?"

" It will be."

" You scare me so." Natia's gaze turned to fire as she snapped her eyes up to him.

" Shut the fuck up."

" I guess Lieb was right," he said, as the rain made him look like Death standing there with ghostly features himself," what's an Agent gonna do for us? We're still fighting clearly." He looked her up and down briefly.

" Just go back to wherever the fuck you came from." Natia's gaze narrowed as she realized all she could hear was either the rain or the rushing blood in her ears, racing faster and faster. It was silent though, the other NCOs deadly quiet watching the two in what seemed a harmless conversation now nearer to Death than before.

" Shut the fuck up, Chuck." a voice muttered and the group turned to look towards Sergeant Toye leaned up against a fence post, a cigarette on his lip with his darkened gaze on the duo, shielded by the helmet on his head.

" Joe-"

" Just leave her alone."

" Joe are you serious?" Sergeant Talbert spoke up," If anything, she's the reason we lost more lives during Market-Garden than saved."

" How about you just shut your mouth and leave the woman alone before things get ugly, alright? We got bigger issues than your personal opinions on what's going on." Sergeant Toye spoke coldly, his voice low and quite dangerous as if prepping to kill," She didn't have a choice and she's here now, so either accept it or go and whine about it and get nowhere, but things ain't changing and they sure as hell aren't changing for you two, okay?" Natia watched Sergeant Toye pull the cigarette from his lip, eyes darkened as well, looking more exhausted than awake and entirely pissed off. 

The group grew quiet and Sergeant Toye met her eyes briefly as she stood under the falling rain with a tightly clenched jaw. He gave her a noncommittal nod, but for a moment it was a comfort under the failing rain. At least not all the NCOs held a grudge against something she really had no choice but to do.

" Alright, move out then, get your platoons to barns, get men settled. We all need some rest tonight." Lip said with a gentle smile to the group and Natia slowly unclenched her tightly twisted jaw. Natia saw Sergeant Toye watch her as she turned away from Sergeants Talbert and Grant, but she pushed farther from the group, not wanting an ounce of what either had to tell her. 

Platoons were being put in barns one after the other, but Natia continued walking numbly through the cold rain towards where ever HQ would be set up. Her poncho stuck to her legs, far too big for her dwindling body, and the radio was soon to be slicked over with rain water as it moved through the thin layer the poncho provided. Her helmet dripped constantly from the speckling of water, and her fingertips were numb from the tight grasp on her weapon strap on her shoulder. Her eyes moved around as she continued forward like a ghost, feet pushing her closer and closer towards where she could see a group of men bustling around the entrance to a slightly bombed out home on the upper East side of the town. 

The first to notice her was Captain Winters - she was rather surprised by his unruly appearance as he caught her in the rain approaching him - maybe it was the way Death captured her eyes that made her easy to recognize.

" Agent Fidel," Captain Winters said nodding off a young Private in the rain who scurried back inside dripping wet. Natia looked up at Captain Winters, his once bright ginger hair, maybe the slightest bit faded by the constant sunlight, his eyes slightly more hollow than usual, the rain water dripping down his face, down his dirt covered cheeks, to his uniform which soaked him to the skin. He was one with his men - if they got covered in water, he would too. 

Natia had to respect that. She knew by her appearance that she wasn't exactly that appealing - the dirt across her face, the sweat that previously had lied in its place still there, the various accounts of blood that donned her uniform, and the rip in her pants from that last patrol as she scrambled through hay.

" Captain Winters," she said, " you needed me?"

" Right, yes," he said, " c'mon inside." Natia watched him and then nodded as he turned and led her over towards where she saw Lieutenant Welsh, equally soaked in rain, rushing through with a box of medical supplies, Doc Roe right behind him. They were soaked.

" This is working as a medical station as well," Captain Winters threw back over his shoulder towards her as she curiously saw Doc Roe begin to organize in a back corner what he could of the supplies as Lieutenant Welsh rushed back out.

" Here," Captain Winters said, pulling open the door for her as she glanced towards him with a nod.

" Thank you, sir." she said and stepped inside the brightly lit room. The smell of rain water was overwhelming, mixing with the large groups of men that were inside Headquarters at the same time - there was a slight intimidation that men who brushed past the short woman tried to give off. Natia was numb to it by now and inside kept her eyes on the ginger-haired Captain in front of her. He pushed forward into one of the smaller back rooms of the bombed out home, lit by candles, provided by whomever, and moved towards the desk where a few things sat, rather neatly on a box on a desk. Natia slowly entered and watched as the Commanding Officer, dripping wet with rain water, dug around and finally pulled a grey object from the stack.

" Close the door, would you please?" Captain Winters asked her and Natia swallowed thickly. Glancing back over her shoulder, she approached the door and shut it lightly, before glancing back towards him.

" I know we haven't been on the best of terms-"

" It's fine, Agent Fidel, this isn't about that. There's something I want you to see." he said and Natia watched him, swallowing cautiously as she did so. The room stood still, the only sound the clicking of the wall clock that hung over top of the doorway. Her heart nearly beat in sync, like counting down whatever time she had left to keep herself as undercover as possible. Natia didn't remove her helmet as she walked over, instead keeping her gaze on Captain Winters. He held out the grey paper, watching her expectantly as she took it slowly into her hands.

" What's this?" she asked and Captain Winters sighed, resting his hands on his hips as he looked at her. 

" I know that you came from Warsaw, Agent Fidel," Captain Winters said and her heart nearly lodged in her throat at the words. Natia met his gaze.

" How?" she stammered out, as her heart began beating faster and faster, her cheeks flaming red the slightest bit of the accusation. It was not an accusation, no, it could never be, she was always proud of her country, but to stand under the Commanding Officer's eyes and be told such a thing when it was the secret she was most desperately trying to hide, made her feel more than accused.

" Open it up," he said nodding to her. Flipping it open, the cover page was covered in Dutch, words scrawled across mixing into German - and the German she could read. Natia swallowed.

" Young woman of Warsaw, Poland, having escaped 3 officers and killed them all has been on the run for the last 17 days and was last seen crossing the border between Holland and Germany. She is rumored to be speculated British-Polish SOE Spy, Agent Fidel of Warsaw, Poland. She was making way for Kassel, when the officers stopped her in the forest to check on her and she pulled a weapon, considering the bullet holes, from her and killed them all - taking the keys, weapons, map, and whatever other things she could off of the three dead officers." Natia looked up at Captain Winters who watched her expectantly, waiting for her to say something.

" They were not checking on me in the forest, Captain. You know damn well they were doing something other than checking on me. And we were not in Kassel, sir, we were far beyond that point by the time they were 'checking' on me." she said, slapping the paper shut and throwing it to the desk.

" I believe you-"

" I had to kill them." she said, her voice running cold, " If I hadn't, I don't know if I would've been able to live with myself from then on." Captain Winters watched her, biting back his lip as she stood under his gaze, flaming like a ball of fire.

" You've been at war for 5 years." Captain Winters said, watching as Natia stared at him, swallowing her pride, watching his crystal, blue eyes look at her own.

" Yes," she said with a nod, " and I'd fight for another 5 if it was all I had left to live for. For Poland, my great nation that has been under terror for 5 years by the enemy. I'd do it over and over again. For my people." The swell of pride in her chest for her war torn country overruled how upset she truly felt about the truth showing its true colors to non other than Captain Winters himself. Captain Winters could see evidently, the level at which the Polish woman held herself to, the pride in her eyes when she talked about her country, the confidence she held in herself when on the battle field, and the intimidating nature she brought to the group without fully recognizing it at first.

" I won't say a word about it, Agent." Captain Winters said, nodding to her as to reassure her so. Natia watched him - she desperately tried to search his eyes to understand if the truth were there, if he was actually telling the truth to her. But he was unreadable, much like herself.

" Thank you, Captain." she said with a nod, her eyes holding his for a moment. Captain Winters nodded curtly and glanced back at the paper, before picking it up and shoving it into a file that sat near the bottom of the stack.

" No one will know, I promise." Captain Winters said crossing his arms as she watched him, trying to force herself to accept that and move on. Natia bit back her lip and sighed, thinking about those past 17 days. It was quiet for a few moments in that room, just not in her mind.

" I can't stay here anymore," she finally spoke, her words fighting her heart in that moment as she said them, watching as Captain Winters tilted his head to the side, " I'm endangering you, your entire company, you're division - if they find that you've managed to conceal me for this long, I can't fathom what they'd do to you." Captain Winters smiled at her response and shook his head.

" Our mission is to get you as close to home as you possibly can, and I'm pretty sure with the group we have now, we can defend what we can with you along with us. They'll have to get through quite a few different forces to reach you, Agent, we're Allies. We have to make sure the other is safe." he said to her, and Natia softly nodded, watching his eyes again.

" Thank you, sir, really." she said with a nod as Captain Winters smiled at her a bit - not much of a smile, the man was dripping wet and covered in cold rain water, but it was the best of a smile for which he could emit. 

" You're dismissed. Try and get some rest, don't worry about this." he told her with a nod as a weight lifted from her shoulders. She'd be too afraid to admit it out loud, but knowing that Captain Winters, with whom she had gotten off on the wrong foot with, was telling her that she was allowed to stay until she got back home safely, had been the biggest weight lifted off her shoulders for a while. Others brought her down, but knowing she had this company for the moment, was a security she wished to have for just a little bit longer. She nodded, her mouth tight-lipped, even if she tried to smile, and then slowly turned and moved towards the door, pulling it open and stepping out again. 

Moving towards the exit, she opened the wooden door and moved back into the rainy world that awaited her outside and moved through the downpour towards a spare barn where she hoped elements of the platoon would be. Natia walked past barns where NCOs stood outside, directing people in the pouring rain inside to the confines, patting their men on their backs, giving smiles where they could and getting a laugh or two out of a few even. Even with low morale, they were still trying to change that around. 

Natia slowly approached one of the closer barns, as her mind grew tired and approached seeing Sergeant Toye waving members in. Natia sighed, and then walked towards the opening. His eyes caught her in an instance and she gave a nod towards him.

" Thought you weren't one to rest," he called towards her, his voice low in the darkness as she approached him.

" It's a nice escape." she answered him, clear and evident exhaustion in her tone of voice and Sergeant Toye smirked the slightest bit. Natia slowed in front of him as he leaned up against the barn door, equally as exhausted. She let out a sigh and watched him, with a soft nod.

" Thanks for what you did out there tonight, with the NCOs. It meant a lot to me." Sergeant Toye gently nodded to her, a tired smile curling up on his lips a bit.

" They shouldn't have opened their mouths when they don't know what they're talking about and I wasn't about to just let that happen." he told her," Especially to you. You've been through enough shit already, even some of my shit." Natia smirked the slightest bit at him and nodded. She knew what he meant.

" I meant to apologize, for the past couple of days, some of the guys...just.." Sergeant Toye said and shrugged as she nodded, understanding within seconds.

" And I meant to thank you," Natia said quietly, " for the song...out on the march." Sergeant Toye watched the Agent look down for a brief moment, nodding her head slowly.

" Eh, nothing a little tune can't do." Sergeant Toye told her with a small smile her way and Natia nodded, a tiny smile poking up onto her face the best it could.

" Thought you weren't one to sing when asked." she said, glancing inside for a moment, as she saw George settling down against a pile of hay, laughing at an offhand comment from a nearby replacement. She looked back to Sergeant Toye as he wiped a bit at the dirt on his cheek, a humble smirk spread on his lips.

" When prompted, I'm willing to let a few lines roll." he said and Natia smirked, letting a breath of air pass through her nose.

" Then maybe there will be more prompting in your future." she said as she took a few steps toward the doorway, with an exhausted nod in his direction.

" Maybe, Agent." Sergeant Toye called to her as Natia slowed her feet for a moment, her hand pressed against the doorway. Natia softly sighed and glanced back over her shoulder towards him, a slight smile on her face.

" Call me Natia." 

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H I S T O R I C A L N O T E S

> I have really tried to expand on this days in between Episode 4 and Episode 5 with Landslide and I've really been enjoying doing integral scenes throughout the fic from my own mind and incorporating it throughout the story! It's been super fun! As well as it allowing for other lose ends to tie up or give a pathway with! :D

A / N 

_HELLO!!! No double update this week (I had school stuff to deal with) but I'm hoping to do so next week as I feel that next week's chapters will require that! I really enjoyed this chapter for a number of reasons (1) we see someone sticking up for Natia, finally, (2) Natia and Winters finally form a sort of mutual bond, still withholding the battling powers of lone wolf v alpha and (3) we see the mental battle Natia is hiding...even a bit from herself. Definitely an extremely fun chapter, with some bits of foreshadowing which I also enjoy - I'm not sure if people found it, it's not expanded on yet, but come back to this chapter after - you'll find it aha! Thanks for reading!_


	33. For My Sin-Stained Bones

“A ship is safe in harbor, but that's not what ships are for.”

_― John A. Shedd_

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Her eyes were staring at the wooden ceiling of the darkened barn, glowing in the corner where Lip lay awake, his gentle eyes keeping an attentive gaze on the sleeping soldiers in the proximity. Her heart ached - she wasn't quite sure why, like something was missing, this unknown feeling inside of her trying to crawl out all the sudden. 

She had tried for the most part to ignore it of course, any normal person would've done the same - she wasn't quite normal and she figured that's why it ached quite like it did. But she supposed that sleepless nights were normal at this point. 

It was peaceful, in the silence of the early hours when the only person awake seemed to be yourself amongst the sleeping soldiers who fought tooth and nail for their own country just like her. She bit back her lip. 

Glancing over towards her left, her eyes caught upon George who lay curled at her side, softly letting a few snores leave his mouth every so often. His hair was a bit of a mess, spiking up a bit as it stuck up in various spots, dirt smudged on his cheeks, with a thin layer of sweat evident as the rain water began to dry, keeping up around his collar if anything. She hoped he was sleeping well, he deserved it. 

Natia let her eyes return to the wooden ceiling above her before they traveled briefly again over towards where Lip sat up against the barn door, the little candle light flickering a bit in the onset of wind that crept in underneath the wooden door. 

Natia let out a soft sigh, before she slowly sat up, her back aching the slightest bit as her head swirled from the sudden movement her body possessed. Her limbs were sore, more sore than what they normally were, and her head ached, while the uniform remained stiff from the dried rain water that had suctioned it to her body. 

Pushing up from the hay, she slowly stood to her feet and glanced back to where Lip currently sat. Sighing to herself, she walked over quietly towards him, watching his face, so relaxed, so gentle in the flickering light, lay aglow with the light the little flame provided. It seemed the sound of her footsteps though forced him to look upwards toward her.

" Fidel," he said, slowly shutting the book in his hands and meeting her eyes fully.

" Hey," she said, " mind if I step outside for a bit?" Lip watched her, as her eyes seemed to change with an unannounced pain swirling deep inside them.

" Yeah," Lip said, a slow nod leaving his figure, " it's still raining...by the way."

" It's quite comforting." she said quietly. It was louder than the thoughts in her mind that refused to be silent. Lip smiled softly at her. 

Stepping towards the door, Natia slowly pushed it open and stepped outside, getting hit with a chilly blast of cold air that accompanied the pouring rain that fell down from above. 

Death glanced over towards his old friend as the young girl slowly stepped out under the rain which refused to let up for anyone and watched it pound her body. She stood there under the roaring of the rain, letting it soak her olive drab, her hair, her boots, running down her thin fingertips before dripping back into the Earth. 

Death watched her curiously, almost with a pitiful edge to the way he watched her, as she slowly backed up and pressed her back up beside the edge of the barn and slowly slide down it, the rough edges digging in through the thick wool of the olive drab, as her bottom hit the grass below her. She didn't move, she barely blinked, she just let the water run over her being as if she didn't feel a single thing. 

Death softly positioned himself down beside the young woman, sitting right beside her as the two oh-so-numbly looked out into the falling rain, splashing into puddles below, creating muddy pits in the grooves of the street. It was humbling, in a world so dark and grim. 

Death's comfort was what sent her to sleep as the rain drowned her whole. Like a never-ending rushing of the ocean waves over her form, sucking her under, before spitting her back up onto the coarse sand, before receding and pulling her right back out again.

" Fidel."

" Hey, Fidel."

" Fidel." Natia shot up like a bullet out of a gun and pulled the weapon at her side straight from it's holster and pointed it straight in the direction of the voice who spoke to her. On the other side was the last person she'd expect to see standing in her presence. 

The hooded Lieutenant. 

Lieutenant Speirs. He didn't flinch at the weapon pointed towards his face - if anything he invited it like he were about to bring it to a dance. His cold eyes remained on her, as a sudden bit of realization hit her like a brick - it was no wonder why his face was shadowed by something and not equally mixing with the darkness around them. It was day, morning - a fresh day.

" Why were you outside?" he asked her.

" Why did you wake me?" Lieutenant Speirs smirked the slightest bit at her comment, as they lay on equal ends by this point in time.

" Well, it seems your CO's looking for you and I just so happened to be moving through HQ at the exact same time and overheard, so I suggest you head up there now." Lieutenant Speirs said, his voice much calmer than she had suspected it to be.

" What exactly did he mean by looking for me?" she said. Lieutenant Speirs walked forward and within a second, pushed the pistol down from her hands, and had then shoved it into his own away from her grasp, taking a step closer to her as he did so, eyes watching her own.

" Maybe it has something to do with pointing something like this in the face of your ally." he said, as he securely placed the pistol into her holster as she stood frozen, eyes narrowed on him.

" It seems the least of Captain Winters' worries." she said back, her eyes settling in his as he slowly stepped back. She let a chilled smirk past her lips.

" Your turn - why were you outside? It rained all night." Lieutenant Speirs' voice said rather coldly himself as he stepped back arms crossed.

" How is it that you always cross my path when I'm least interested in conversation?"

" Why are you avoiding my question, Agent?" Natia bit back her lip and shook her head. Crossing her arms, she felt the sun grow warmer it seemed, as her flushed cheeks from the heat caused the hair from her bun to fall and stick to her cheeks, her heart racing faster - he didn't know did he?

" I had bigger issues than sleep, Lieutenant." she answered him - she refused to tell him that she no longer slept well, that sleeping kept awake the demons that the consciousness pushed out, that the night was the only comfort she had anymore and even then the level of comfort was dismal. Lieutenant Speirs nodded briefly to her as he watched something in her eyes shift, a deeper darkness than what other eyes he watched had possessed.

" Agent-" Natia glanced over her shoulder to see Lieutenant Welsh in the doorway of the barn door and his eyes were on Lieutenant Speirs.

" Lieutenant." Lieutenant Welsh said nodding to him. Lieutenant Speirs gave a rather curt nod to Lieutenant Welsh before glancing back at her and without so much as meeting her eyes, he turned to walk away. Thompson slapping his shoulder, helmet hooded over his head, and a steady gate leading him away, she watched him retreat back towards where HQ was. 

Natia watched him with narrowed eyes, like blinders were up and all she could focus on was the retreating Lieutenant who showed up at the most random of times with a bite on his tongue.

" What'd he want?" Lieutenant Welsh asked her, for the first time in weeks, speaking directly to her in a conversation not binded by war.

" He told me Captain Winters was looking for me." she said stiffly, " Moving through HQ...overheard him or something."

" He's just trying to get under your skin because he knows with you, you'll put up a fight." Lieutenant Welsh told her, " All the other guys are too scared to even, oh I don't know, look at him." Natia glanced towards him with a raised brow.

" What are you talking about?" she asked him, eyes meeting his. Lieutenant Welsh seemed to smirk, his jolly eyes glowing from underneath the helmet atop his head as he stood there.

" You ever hear of what happened on D-Day?" he asked her, " With good, ole Lieutenant Speirs?"

" No."

" I'll walk ya to HQ, c'mon." he said and Natia sighed to herself, thinking on turning back to take some of her left behind belongings from the barn with her, but instead followed the Lieutenant by his side.

" Did you sleep in a mud pit or something?" Lieutenant Welsh asked her as he observed the appearance at which her olive drab was currently in. Natia glanced down at her legs, where mud had dried around the ankles a bit, and her bottom had some mud surrounding it. 

" It's Holland, what do you expect?" she asked him a bit coldly, keeping up pace with him as he smirked again.

" Right, well, D-Day," he started as Natia awaited him to continue," supposedly took out 20 German P.O.Ws all by himself. Offered them cigarettes and then sent 'em off. Killed them straight afterwards, that sorta lifeless look in his eyes after. Supposedly, he even killed one of his own Sergeants from his platoon." Natia expected to be surprised by this man, but from the already murderous glance he took upon himself to throw at Natia, she had found it to be a pleasure to had pointed her weapon right in his eyes.

" And the men fear him for that?" she asked, crossing her arms over her chest, " If they take a cigarette he shoots?" Lieutenant Welsh chuckled from beside her.

" That's the word." Lieutenant Welsh said with a smirk. Natia raised a slightly confused brow at the comment, but decided to ignore it in the end. She had showed how ruthless she could be in the face of one who had supposedly killed an ally of his own - they were nearly even at this point. HQ came into sight, it looked different than last night, Natia felt, but it had been in a downpour.

" Well, this is where I leave ya," Lieutenant Welsh said, " we're moving out soon, across the Waal today. They've got some trucks for us, so hopefully if it decides to rain our feet don't soak."

" That'd be nice wouldn't it," she said, the slightest bit sarcastic as Lieutenant Welsh smirked.

" I'll see ya," he said, before turning and moving back towards the barn where 1st platoon was currently camped out in, attempting to light the cigarette that had found its way to his lip. Natia quirked a brow into the air at the slight confusion - first of all, it was Lieutenant Welsh of all people to ward off Lieutenant Speirs, then he tells her the D-Day story, and then holds a conversation with her. 

What was he drinking? 

Her thoughts went to Captain Nixon in seconds - had he found more cognac? 

Natia hurried up the steps of HQ, looking like more of a mess than she would've wished if she had to admit - the hair pulled from her bun, sweat everywhere from the boiling sun above them, mud caked bits on her uniform, and dirt across her face and under her fingernails. It was quite a sight to behold she must admit. Natia pushed open the door to HQ, and was greeted by voices that emerged from within - a mix of British and American swirling through. 

Softly shutting the door behind her, Natia heard a silent click emit from the hinge, before stepping forward, making her breath shallow and calm as she entered. As she lingered in the darkness of the hallway of the entrance to HQ, she began to see exactly what was going on and Doc Roe was the first person in her way of sight, in the corner, going through medical boxes that were stacked in the corner, fingers running so gracefully through the supplies like it was habit - it probably was. 

Natia stood there in the darkness of the unlit corridor and watched the large table that was situated nearby to Doc Roe, her eyes catching on various leaders and officers of both British and American sides. Her eyes narrowed for a brief moment as she watched them, listening to their voices, the way certain words left their lips with worry, others with confidence.

" Agent Fidel." Natia's eyes snapped to Doc Roe's as he now stood in front of her. Her eyes widened as she saw him standing there in the darkness beside her, away from the lit room of where the map seemed to rest inside with the officers.

" Doc Roe." she said, " Captain Winters', supposedly had to see me, word of Lieutenant Speirs."

" Speirs?" Doc Roe asked her and Natia softly nodded.

" The least of my worries at the moment." she answered him, her eyes searching the ginger-haired Captain out again.

" Well it seems Strayer has other plans." Doc Roe said quietly to her as the two looked towards where in fact, Colonel Strayer was animatedly talking to members of the group, his eyes wild, hands moving around like he were in some sort of frenzy, cheeks a bit red as well. The medic and the Agent stood side by side, quietly observing the Colonel lose his mind almost.

" I guess nows not the time." she said quietly to Doc Roe who glanced her way, and shrugged a bit.

" I guess so-"

" Agent Fidel." She was getting quite use to the American twang of an accent, calling out her name. Whenever it was called out in the Underground, it seemed much quieter, kinder - here it was like a slap in the face, an unreadable tone that you had absolutely no idea what you were stepping into - anger or happiness - who knows. 

Natia nodded briefly to Doc Roe, who softly nodded, putting a gentle hand on her back as she passed through, guiding her forward. The touch of the medic calmed her in that moment and she let herself settle as she stepped in the lit room. 

The officers around the table watched her step cautiously around, preying eyes watching her own dark ones flit about, each set of eyes after the other, her hands resting behind her back as she moved closer to Colonel Strayer's side. She briefly caught Captain Winters' eye, but he slowly nodded to her - what was going on?

" Sir," Natia said as she stopped a few feet from Colonel Strayer's eyes, trying to hold her brown orbs from launching to the map that lay out on the table. 

Her pocket burned where the little paper from the tank of Nuenen sat - it burned like a fire against her heart. Yet, her hand didn't even flinch towards it. Her tense gaze held the Colonel's as the group of officers watched the duo stare down one another in the silence - the clicking of the clock on the wall the only other sound humming within the room.

" We're receiving rations from the British before we move out for Zuetten this evening." Colonel Strayer told her, " I'm putting you with the NCOs for this one, to help them disperse it through the platoons." Natia watched him.

" There's something else, isn't there?" Natia said her voice low, as she refused to move her eyes from his face - she could see the twitch on his lip, the way his eyes flitted about - there was always something else. Natia glanced slightly over her shoulder to watch Captain Winters out of her peripheral. He looked right at her. 

In the room full of men, Natia stood at the pinnacle because at the moment, she were in control, drawing whatever Colonel Strayer was trying to hold from her, out. Or more like whatever Captain Winters was trying to hold out from her. Turning to face the Captain, she watched him under her intense gaze, his own eyes refusing to leave hers.

" Sir?" she asked him. Captain Winters glanced around the men who stood at the table, before giving a nod to them and looking at her.

" If you would come with me." he told her, moving towards where she previously remembered his office had been. 

Walking behind him, Natia cast a glance back towards where Colonel Strayer and a multitude of other officers from the 506th currently were. Eyes narrowed and gaze shadowed, she watched a few look to each other, quite put off, for a lack of a better word, she felt. Glaring a bit, she turned, muddy bottoms and all, and followed after Captain Winters, her eyes on the helmetless man leading her through towards the office. 

He pushed open the door and almost immediately she heard the familiar ticking clock that had entered her ears late last night. He took his position up at the chair, settling into the slightly tarnished cushion of the seat, and watched as she slowly approached the desk and stood on the opposite side, arms crossed.

" We have a few things to discuss, Agent." he told her, " You might want to sit." Natia tried not to smirk.

" I'm fine, thank you." she answered him, meeting his eyes cooly, awaiting his words and praying that anger wouldn't take ahold of the wheel. Captain Winters watched her for a moment before nodding.

" I want to discuss your rank, among the company, as you are apart of the company as of now."

" Only for a few more weeks, sir." she told him, with a nod and Captain Winters watched her, before briefly nodding.

" Only for a few more weeks, but we don't know if that could change, so a position needs to be fitted out for you - I'm assuming in the resistance you were in assigned you rank?"

" Yes - I was a Lieutenant." she told him, " But that was before they demoted me." Captain Winters' lips twitched, and she could see the slight sad smile on his features as he looked down at a packet of notes on his desk.

" Demoted?" he asked her, glancing up towards her in the soft window light from the glass panes that faced the North.

" Yes, I assume you would know the term sir." she said, watching him, slightly ticked off - the last thing she wished to discuss was her demotion nor did she ever think she'd have to put another ounce of energy into that moment of time.

" Why were you demoted, Agent?" he asked her, placing the pen that had been in his clasp down onto the surface of the desk and looked towards her. Natia watched him, her gaze cold as the snow, refusing to melt as the sun beat down on it.

" For the same reason you didn't allow me on patrol the other day," she said, eyeing him, " for not following orders, recklessly going about my duty. I could've cared less." Captain Winters watched her, his own gaze held up with furrowed brows.

" I didn't allow you on patrol the other day because you saved one of my men and deserved the rest - you had previously volunteered yourself, Agent. I'm not blind. That was an order." Captain Winters told her, as he sat forward in the desk, clasping his fingers with one another as he watched her.

" Then don't allow me rank, sir, I'm much better off when the only title I have to live up to is Agent and not Lieutenant or Sergeant - then there won't be bodies to blame on me - there's far too many in my past that are to blame for me, sir." she told him, her eyes holding his firmly. He grew quiet watching her stand so still in the morning light, unflinching, her eyes like cold, endless pits, staring into a void of eternal darkness. 

Because she saw their faces - each life she took, each life that had fallen at her expense when it should've been her. Zdzich should've been her, Felicjan should've been HER. Her parents - it should've been HER. She should've been the one to die on September 14th, 1939, but instead only a piece of her soul did - she wished the rest of her would've as well. Her hands were shaking, she could feel the slight tremor that gave from the white knuckles, clenched in their usual fist-form. Natia let out a breath.

" I am not American, nor will I ever be - I did not want this. To be so far from my family, from my home! To have to live like this, no radio signal, no communication with my position, with men I do not know. I did not want this, nor am I supposed to go act like this is normal - for anyone. So, I am earnestly requesting that the only name I am to go by, by any member of your company, sir, is Agent. And that's my order." she said, eyes clashing like angry dragons, conflict and guilt riling up her system as she watched the Captain. 

Captain Winters was no man she wished to feud with - she would never wage a battle with someone who looked after his men like they were his own children. But she would never be a true part of this company, she would never compete with men whom had known each for over 2 years and fought and trained together like brothers in arms. She could never. She wasn't supposed to - she wasn't even supposed to be standing here thinking that right now.

" Granted." Captain Winters said, a soft nod emitting from him as he sat there, a sympathetic look spread on his features as Natia watched him cautiously. Because there it was again - the guilt. He was trying - she wasn't. Trying to let her know she was not alone - and all she wanted to be was simply, alone. It was quiet in the office - the sound of that annoying clock above the wall like a bomb about to explode. Or how much time she currently wasted standing here wordless.

" You're dismissed, Agent." Captain Winters said, " Help the men with the rations." Natia nodded softly.

" Yes, sir." she said, before turning around and moving right out of the door. Her boots moved swiftly down the office corridor, storming past the table of officers, down the darkened foyer and straight out of the door into the daylight again, sucking in a gust of air that collected in her lungs and stopping with her hands on her hips in that moment. Her gaze narrowed in the sunlight, as she began to feel the affects of the mud caked up upon her legs and bottom. Natia ignored whatever decided to bite at her heart and pushed forward down the road, filled with the mud of leftover rain, and soldiers spilling out of barns, out in the road. 

As Natia walked, her eyes caught upon where she saw a handful of British soldiers working amongst one another to pull boxes from the back of a truck. Her eyes remained narrowed, focused on their voices, the slow-paced way they pulled box after box of rations from the back of their truck, like it was the most careless thing in the world. 

Her eyes carried her towards where the group of NCOs stood, passing their cigarettes between one another, the sun tanning their faces, slicked with sweat, and the dirt on their cheeks more prominent upon their features. Briefly, she watched a dark set of brown eyes met her own. 

Sergeant Toye. He had a power she'd never thought the man would receive. Her name. George withheld that power, and he had kept it safe, but now Sergeant Toye, an NCO, withheld that name as well, that power she had refused to hand out. Slowly, she sent a nod towards the man, across the street to him, as she moved like a lone wolf down the side of the road, prowling, like she were awaiting an attack from behind. 

Sergeant Toye instead, let the corner of his lip poke up the slightest bit, as he leaned up against the brick wall, and send her a nod back. Natia felt the tension in her shoulders relax for a moment, and she slowly averted her attention back forward again, feeling eyes on her as she approached the barn in which she had slept the night before.

" Fidel." A voice said and she found Lip in the doorway.

" Lip," Natia said, his nerves settling as Lip smiled at her.

" Was wondering where you ended up wandering off to." he said as Natia weakly smiled the slightest bit.

" Captain Winters...he had said he needed me for a moment." she said and Lip nodded gently as to end the conversation there and not have to further discuss it - it did not at all seem like she wished to discuss it anymore herself. As they entered the softly lit barn, open windows at the top portions of the walls lay open, letting in the fresh air that Natia felt she hadn't smelled in a while. Like when the windows first were able to open in the spring time and you finally were able to breath the life the Earth was offering. 

Natia glanced up towards the sunlight, as Lip watched her briefly, as she seemed to attract the light that flooded in from those open windows. But it did not seem she wished it to stay, by the way her gaze turned cold again and her eyes traced towards the radio beside George Luz's. Lip watched her stand in the center of the barn, as the men moved around her, bodies shuffling past her frozen one, voices swimming through the ears - and she remained frozen. But she seemed to register something, like something inside her mind clicked all of the sudden. 

Natia sighed softly to herself as she turned and moved over towards where the radio was - a radio with static instead of the voice of Zofia from Warsaw. 

Without second though, she hefted the radio up onto her back and looped her own helmet onto her head this time. She slid her Thompson over her shoulder with ease and then moved to her feet - so much had already occurred in the spit of morning, she couldn't believe she still had to hand out British rations along with hike herself up onto a truck and move even deeper into the war that evaded Holland. Without so much as a glance to the men, she moved out of the barn, quickly, her feet propelling her forward, chin held high up in the air as she trailed away, briefly reaching down to ensure her pistol still lay in it's spot - where Lieutenant Speirs had placed it after he had disarmed her. Her gaze narrowed in an uneasy frustration at the thought. 

No one disarmed her and lived to tell about it. 

｡↷ ✧*̥₊˚‧☆ﾐ

H I S T O R I C A L N O T E S 

> Not as much a historical note, but more pertaining to the reason why Natia willingly chose to remain with her Agent name instead of reverting back to 'Lieutenant' as in her days with the Polish Resistance or to the rank of Lieutenant simply within the American Army. Natia feels Agent is the only title she has and with that title, as stated, she lost so many lives to it, and especially not her own, that she feels she has to take that liberty and that responsibility and that taking another title within an Army such as the American, there will only be more bodies to blame on herself and more deaths. And that is a fear that will follow her for quite sometime. 

A / N 

_HELLO!! Not a double update this week, had more free time this week and so I was doing major writing for Landslide - and so NEXT WEEK will be the DOUBLE UPDATE!! The chapters I feel are essential next week to each other!! :) I had a lot of fun with this chapter though, really digging into some of the flaws of Natia's characters that are very present in her morals. She's very complex and it takes a lot personally on my side, to get her just right because of this layered-ness to her (if that's even a word lol!) But it's truly a joy to do and gives me something to really work with and experiment and test my skills with. It's great, truly! Thank you all for reading and continuing to join me on this journey with me - it means the world and Natia and I thank you all!! Happy reading, and enjoy! <3 _


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